Melekûn
by Princess Shania
Summary: The Goblins never forgave the murder of their King. The son of the old King discovers where the Tooks are living and orders a mass execution of all who live there. A pregnant Belladonna Baggins escapes along with her husband Bungo, but just how long can the Hobbits survive? And who will take them in? And just what will become of their yet to be born child?
1. Azgharab

******_STORY WARNINGS AHEAD_  
I'm giving Belladonna Dwarf blood. I'm completely screwing with canon here, but only because I don't like the fact Hobbits don't live as long as Dwarves. In this fic, it will be stated that her grandfather was a Dwarf and he and her grandmother travelled on the road for quite some time before discovering and settling down in the Shire. So, she's got the lifespan of a Dwarf. Bilbo will have this lifespan too.**

******The other thing I'm doing is making **Belladonna 47 years old, instead of the age of 38 she was when she got pregnant with Bilbo. The reason for that is because I wanted to give her this previous life of doing adventurous things and having the knowledge of protecting herself and survival outside the Shire.

**The other thing I'm doing is giving her Dwarf blood. I'm completely screwing with canon here, but only because I don't like the fact Hobbits don't live as long as Dwarves. In this fic, it will be stated that her grandfather was a Dwarf and he and her grandmother travelled on the road for quite some time before discovering and settling down in the Shire. So, she's got the lifespan of a Dwarf. Bilbo will have this lifespan too.**

**Now that the warnings are out of the way, read on if you wish! **

* * *

Bungo smiled as he caught sight of his beloved Belladonna pulling up the weeds in their garden. She'd been told by numerous others to rest, that the child growing inside her could be hurt if his mother strained herself too much. Belladonna clearly disagreed if this was anything to go by.

She straightened herself up and turned, her blue-green eyes lighting up when she saw him. "Afternoon!"

"The same to you, Bella." He made his way over to his wife to give her a kiss and place a hand on her still flat-stomach. "And what do you think the little one has to say about all this?"

Belladonna rolled her eyes. "All this foolishness! A bit of gardening never hurt anyone."

"I know, love, but I think we'd _all_ feel a lot better if-"

"If I sat around doing nothing?"

"Well, yes," Bungo agreed, "you're only two and a half weeks in, and so much could go wrong."

"It _won't _go wrong," Belladonna stated, "besides, fresh air is best for children, everyone knows that."

Bungo perked up. "What if you rested in the garden?"

"In order to rest, one has to have tired herself out," Belladonna replied. "Believe me, pulling up a weed or two is hardly tiring!"

Seeing that this was an argument he couldn't possibly win, Bungo decided to concede. She was right after all, he supposed. She surprised him with a kiss to the cheek and headed back towards their home.

"Come on, you, help me with the supper."

* * *

Miles from Bungo and Belladonna's peaceful Shire, there were Mountains, streaked with mist, tall, cold and forbidding to Yavanna's creatures who preferred the moist, crumbling soil to the sharp, unforgiving rocks that littered the Mountain's pathways. Most of all, they, particularly the Took clan, feared the creatures that resided in the Mountains.  
It all started with Bullroarer Took, the Hobbit famous for ending the life of the monstrous Goblin King in the Battle of Greenfields. It was thanks to her uncle that Belladonna's many ventures never took her any further than Rivendell, for she too feared the wrath of the creatures at the loss of their King.

They were right to fear the Goblins.

The current Goblin King, a colossal monstrosity, standing taller than the biggest Elf, rolls of fat hanging off his large body, looked down at his subjects with wide, shining eyes.

"We know where the Tooks are hiding!"

A loud cheer went up in approval at these words.

"You," he pointed a wooden staff at them, "will find them and kill them all! Every last descendant of the Tooks! Kill them!"

An even louder cheer met the Goblin Kings speech. He quietened them with a loud bang of his staff to the cold stone floor.

"In fact, _leave none alive_!"

The noise that met this decision was so high in volume that the Goblin King half-thought he could feel the Mountain shake. He grinned. Soon, he thought to himself, those hairy-footed wastrels would be taught a lesson they wouldn't forget.

* * *

The March evening was surprisingly quite warm . Belladonna rubbed her swollen belly and sighed contentedly as she watched the sun, red as fire edge closer to the darkening hills in the horizon. The birds were oddly quiet that day, she noticed, but apart from that, everything had gone the same way as it usually did.

Bungo's cousin had brought his daughter to see them. She was bright eyed and bouncy, a flurry of brown curls on the top of her head and she seemed silently curious about everything, from where she was perched on her father's knee.

Would her little one be as curious? Belladonna wondered to herself. Perhaps he would just be content with the world as Bungo was. She secretly hoped he would be curious about it, wanting to explore it all, just as she had.

There was a sudden gust of wind and Bungo's head popped out the window. "Come back in, Bella!"

"You're far too protective, Bungo!" she called back.

He came outside, a woolen blanket in his arms. "With you there's no such thing!" And with that, he proceeded to wrap the thing around her. She bit back a sigh, but couldn't help but snuggle close to him as he placed an arm around her shoulders and drew her closer.

"Our child doesn't stand a chance. You'll probably be putting woollies on _him_ in the middle of summer, too!"

"I don't think you'd let me." Bungo said. "And if he's anything like you, he won't either!"

She chuckled. "So, I should think!"

"It's going to be a cold night tonight," Bungo warned, laying a hand on his unborn child. "I'd like it if you'd come back inside after the sun finally leaves us."

Knowing her husband would strongly dislike her staying out all this supposedly cold night, Belladonna agreed. She rather fancied an early night, anyway.

* * *

Full up with Bungo's creamy mashed potatoes and lamb chops, Belladonna hauled herself up and padded off into their bedroom. She supposed it had been the warm sun that had made her feel tired now, and she simply wanted to lay down on the plush, goose-feather mattress and sink into a deep sleep. Not one minute had she gotten herself under the blanket covering their bed, did Bungo join her, sliding tender arms around her stomach, kissing her neck and shoulders.

"I love you," he told her, repeating the same reminder he always did every morning and night.

"I love you, too." Belladonna mumbled, holding onto his arms.

It didn't take long for sleep to claim her. Bungo stayed awake, staring at the golden head of his wife. Sometimes, he did just that, staring at this spirited goddess who had been so very difficult to ask to accept his proposal of courting (mainly due to those ventures she so often left for during her youth). She was amazing.

He let his fingers brush themselves through her golden curls and smiled at her content expression. Her long eyelashes rested on her cheekbones, making her look years younger than she truly was. He leaned over to kiss her brow and lay his head on his pillow, slowly dropping off to the sound of her slow breathing.

What seemed like seconds later, a loud bang echoed through the smial. Bungo sat up, looking wildly around. There was another sound, this time from the front door, it seemed. Bungo got up and went to answer the visitor's inconsiderately loud knocking.

Dishevelled brown curls told him this was one of the Bracegirdle clan. He looked at Bungo with a look of such fear and anxiety that the latter felt an icy chill sweep through his body. "What is it?"

"Goblins have been seen several miles from here," the Bracegirdle warned. "Get your wife and run."

Without asking why they currently had Goblins in their home, Bungo nodded and went to rouse Belladonna. His thoughts were not with whys and hows, they were with his sleeping wife and unborn baby.

* * *

She mumbled when he tenderly shook her shoulders and a bleary turquoise eye opened and peered at him. "Wh'd'zzit, B'go?"

"Goblins."

"What?!"

His spouse leaped out of bed and stared at him in horror, all tiredness long gone. "Goblins?!"

"Yes, they were spotted a few miles away, don't know _where_, I didn't ask, but.."

"Get dressed," Belladonna ordered, cutting through his babbling. "Get into something hard-wearing..your gardening clothes should do..." She dropped to her knees and pulled a heavy-looking box from under the bed. In here lay her old travelling garments and she tore them from their hiding place and began swapping her nightgown for the long blue tunic and trousers. The trousers had always been loose and she was grateful for that now, as they would accommodate her growing bump. Turning around, she noted with relief that Bungo had done as she'd requested and was now clad in the deep green he wore in their garden.

"Now what?" Bungo asked, feeling more and more helpless as the seconds ticked by.

"We leave." was her reply.

Bungo now had many questions buzzing around his head, but he followed her as she made her way to the door. A hoarse, high-pitched shriek in the distance made both wince and Belladonna bit her lip in worry.

"They're here."

* * *

The first of the Tooks had been easy enough to kill. After that, all the Goblins had to do was cut through the seemingly endless supply of little people that came running out of their little homes to see what was going on. Now they were coursing through the Shire, like fire through earth and killing any living creature that they saw.  
One Goblin noticed the house with the green door. He saw two shadows bobbing about courtesy of the warm yellow light pouring through the windows. He raised his sword, gave a hissing yell and ran towards the smial.

* * *

Inside, Belladonna was searching through her chest of treasures, pushing aside little trinkets, jeweled rings, compasses, arrow heads... until she found the twisted dagger that an Elf had once gifted to her, 'should you ever need protection'. She saw a flash of red and recognized her grandfather's ring. Lifting it out, she suddenly realised where they were going to go.

Her grandfather had been dead for fifty years, but she knew he had been known in the Dwarvish community and had travelled with her grandmother until they'd settled in the Shire to have her da and all his brothers and sisters. He had been a Dwarrow, himself, she remembered and long had the children of Aule shown kindness to the children of Yavanna.

They would go to the Dwarves.

Just as she came to this decision, there was a loud clattering of glass and she felt her heart freeze. Slowly turning, she found herself face to face with the one creature on Middle Earth she'd always feared. Its popping eyes widened as it came nearer and it raised its blade, coming closer and closer...

"HEY!"

Bungo had been by the window when the creature had burst in and had been still with shock and fear, but the sight of his wife about to get gutted by a Goblin brought him very much out of that shock and fear, and without thinking, he grabbed a walking stick and cracked it over the Goblin's head, causing it to stagger and drop, a trickle of black blood oozing out of its head.

Bungo reached his hand out to Belladonna. "Come on," he urged. "Let's go."

Looking into the brilliant emerald green of her husband's anxious gaze, Belladonna nodded. They had already wasted too much time.

* * *

**Is it good? Do you like it? Please do tell!**

**(I had to write it, Ori the Plot Bunny attacked again!)**


	2. Zesulel (The Alone

The scent of death was high in the air, accompanied by the horrifying sounds of people screaming in a terrifying crescendo. Hand-in-hand, Belladonna and Bungo ran past unseeing Goblins, forcing themselves to not look down at all for fear of what they would see.

"Help!"

"Somebody help us!"

Both wanted nothing more than to do just that, but instead, they kept to the shadows. One Hobbit taking a Goblin by surprise was one thing, but the two of them against the plague that had befallen the Shire?

They would surely be killed.

"From what I see, they've been working their ways up," Belladonna softly whispered,"so we'll take the road to Bree and hope we don't run into anymore of these hideous creatures."

Bungo could only nod. He felt as though he wasn't in his own body, rather an outsider watching things from a different perspective, and a terrible perspective at that. Not for the first (nor the last) time, he wondered if the whole thing was a particularly nasty dream.

He did not know how long Bella led him through endless pathways, alongside little streams which were coloured oddly pinkish, but soon, he realised that they were indeed on a road and that road was a familiar place.

"Bungo," Belladonna murmured. "Bungo, dear, come back to me."

"Why did they come to us, Bella?" Bungo asked, his voice suddenly strained. "What did we do?"

Belladonna gave no answer, simply tightening her hold on his hand and continuing her march on.

* * *

When the two got to the wooden gates, they knew immediately that all was not well. The gates were down, their splintered remains scattered across the earthy ground. When they walked closer, that was when they saw the bodies, broken and torn beyond any chance of survival.

"They must have gotten here, too." Belladonna noted, allowing fear and pain to colour her tone.

Belladonna was shaking. "This- this is all that fool's fault," she whispered.

"Bella?"

"Bullroarer, my granduncle. Remember, he killed the Goblin King and now there's hundreds of _them_..." she trailed off.

"We're going to be alright," Bungo said firmly, disliking the sound of broken sorrow in his wife's voice. "You hear me, Bella? We're going to be fine."

"We should go," Bella murmured after a short silence.

He could tell by the deadened expression in her eyes that she was now feeling the full extent of it all as strongly as he was. "Bella, love, where are we going?"

"To find my grandfather's kin. If we keep East, we'll find the city he was born in."

"Dwarves?"

Bungo looked doubtful and Belladonna could hardly blame him. Dwarves were hardy, stubborn, loud and as different from Hobbits as it was possible to be, but she had all faith in them, and she nodded her head in confirmation. He looked at her for a short while and then seemed to agree. Or maybe he was too exhausted to argue. Either way, Belladonna was only too glad to leave Bree.

* * *

For weeks and weeks they trekked. They climbed the Blue Mountains and when they came down from them, they crossed rivers and walked through fields of blooming plants and forests of strange animals that yowled and shrieked in the dead of night. They got lost in one of these strange places and wandered around, trying to find an exit through the numerous thin trees and on the third day of being stuck inside the woods, Bungo spotted sunlight and the two Hobbits found themselves in warmth once again.

"There's a mountain path going East," Bungo pointed out. "Should we go up there?"

Too tired from lack of rest, Belladonna didn't bother looking. If she had, she would have seen the ominous strands of mist around the peaks of the mountains Bungo had seen. "It may be a shortcut," she said, looking at the vast fields stretched out before them. "Let's go up there now and see if we can find a cave for the night somewhere along its path."

* * *

They ended up walking along the Mountain's crumbling edge far longer than they meant to. The jagged walls of the mountains offered no crevice for the three of them to squeeze into. The earth they walked upon felt...strange. Too cold, too hard.

Unforgiving.

She started noticing the mist around two hours into their walking. Thick, engulfing mist hung over them and she started to feel anxious. "Which mountains are _these_?" she wondered, a cold trickle of dread growing in her mind. The path ahead grew narrow and she felt Bungo's hands around her waist, directing her closer to the mountain.

"I think we should have stayed on the ground," Bungo said. "Don't much like these mountains!"

"Do you think we should go back?" Belladonna asked, placing a hand on Bungo's to assure herself he was really there.

"We've come this far," Bungo replied. "Let's keep going."

Belladonna silently agreed. The path seemed to be getting wider, if the view of the road ahead was any indication.

* * *

"Look, a cave," Belladonna murmured.

"Thank the Gods. You can rest now."

The cave was cold and dark and damp and they huddled together for warmth, cloaks spread over their bodies. Both kept stroking Belladonna's stomach as though to calm their baby.

_All will be well. Nothing can harm you. We're here now._

Bungo didn't know quite when they fell asleep, but he awoke sharply to feel the ground trying to turn. He pulled frantically at his wife, to see if she knew what was going on. When she awoke, he could see that she was paling, from what little starlight poured into their cave.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"You don't know?"

And without warning, they started to fall.

Bungo did the only thing he could think of to keep her safe and pulled her towards him, hiding her stomach from hitting anything that could potentially cause their child harm. They lightly brushed against rock as the strange tunnel they found themselves in swerved and spun madly around them. He felt the supporting stone suddenly vanish and he pulled Belladonna tighter and braced for impact.  
The fall, luckily, wasn't that long and while he certainly felt the air being pushed out of his lungs, he knew that he was, at least, unhurt. Belladonna was getting to her feet, he hand outstretched.

"Come on, we must run!"

There was a fear in her eyes he'd never seen before, and looking up at the beasts climbing down the walls around them, he knew why.

Goblins. So, so many of them.

"These must be the two Nwylin missed!"

"Let's do him a favour, shall we? Kill them for him!"

"Finish off the job!"

"Come on!" Belladonna urged.

He snatched hold of her hand and followed her blindly as she dodged past the creatures. He could feel cold metal scratching at his skin, could hear their terrible threats and vile insults, but he didn't dare react. Bella seemed lost and they temporarily lost the creatures, finding themselves at the top of steep stairs leading down to pitch black. No noise came from this place and with this knowledge, Bella put a foot forward.

"With luck, we can find a way out of this foul place." she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

Bungo wasn't very happy at the inky darkness and what would surely be a nasty and long fall down should one of them lose their footing, but knowing it was either this or them, dropped down and climbed after Belladonna as she started to make the long clamber downwards.

* * *

"Lost?! What do you mean, lost?!" The Goblin King snarled at the cowering creature before him.

"They slipped past us," was the reply. "We didn't know where they'd gone to, Your Greatness."

The Goblin King muttered furiously, his bulbous eyes narrowed as he glowered down at his pitiful servant. "Search every crevice of the Mountains. Those Halflings _don't _leave _alive_!"

Agreeing with enthusiasm, the Goblin made to leave his King, but was interrupted by a warning of, "Don't fail this again, Nwylin. If you do, I'll personally smear your remains over the entire Kingdom."

* * *

They could hear the shouts and calls of the Goblins. They knew they didn't have long until their scent was followed and then they would surely be found out. When one is in a hurry, climbing down, or up, a surface is frustrating and frightening all at the same time. It seemed to take too long, but the only way to speed up their journey was to take what seemed like a 1,000 foot drop, which neither particularly liked the thought of.

They simply hoped that none of the Goblins had, in fact, smelt their presence. Belladonna, peering over her shoulder, noticed with relief, a thin line of light illuminating the gloomy dampness of the ground below.

"Not long now, Bungo."

* * *

Nwylin had been searching high and low for the 'little problems' as the Shirelings in their midst were becoming known by. Suddenly a scent, a warm scent of sweet grass and other earthy scents caught his attention, earning a pleased snarl from the Goblin.

He would soon find them.

Sprinting along with this new scent, like a wolf chasing down deer, he stopped at the end of the drop, looking down, searching for movement.

And then he saw it.

Reaching for his bow, he set his arrow and took aim.

* * *

Belladonna reached for Bungo as he reached the last step. "There's sunlight coming through, hurry now, we can make it. The Goblins won't risk coming into contact with the sunlight."

He reached for her hand and yelled in surprised pain as a sharp, stabbing pain hit his neck. Staggering, he fell off the step, thudding onto the ground.

Belladonna went to help him up, thinking that he'd simply twisted his ankle. Touching his shoulder, she was alarmed to feel something warm...something sticky..

That was when she saw the arrow glinting in the weak light. She didn't scream, she didn't sob. She didn't know how to react, apart from quietly whispering her husband's name in the hope that he would be able to survive it, that the arrow was located somewhere non-vital.

"B'lla r'n."

She glanced up and saw little figures. Bungo was looking up at her, she could feel his gaze on her skin. He gargled something and then was quiet.

He was gone, but she couldn't leave his body in this place. She dragged one of his limp arms over her shoulder and pulled him up, started running as fast as she could towards the exit. He was heavy, literally a dead weight, but she was determined that he rest peacefully in a place where the sun's light fell.

Maybe he wasn't dead yet. Maybe she could heal him, or find help.

* * *

She didn't know how she managed to beat the Goblins, but suddenly there was bright warm sunlight, and trees, and birds chirping. She ran from the exit, and then stumbled and fell, bringing Bungo down with her.

There was so much blood. It was trickling from the wound like a waterfall. She could see that his eyes were lifeless and pale, and when she felt his wrist, his heart, she could find no pulse.

She sat back and stared at him, feeling a lump in her throat. "Oh, Bungo..."

* * *

"They are both dead?" The Goblin King asked.

"Both." Nwylin confirmed. "Got them both with one hit."

The Goblin King gave a pleased mutter. "Good. That's good. I think we managed to avenge my poor father quite well. No more Tooks left?"

"None."

"That is pleasing to hear," the Goblin King said. "I think that will be all, now."

Nwylin knew he'd got one, but what happened to the other, he could not say. Ah, well. What the King didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

* * *

Belladonna Baggins, the current last descendant of the Took clan (at least until her child was born) was asleep. She was tired, exhausted not only from running from the Goblins, but tired from the heartbreak of her husband and, now she thought about it, possibly her whole family being killed by those feral, violent creatures. She was holding Bungo's hand, her free arm clamped around her stomach, the bush that she'd found to hide both herself and Bungo from view softly swaying in the light breeze.  
If she had been awake, she would have noticed the stranger arriving.

* * *

******Made a typo last chapter, which has been fixed!**

**Aww, thanks for the reviews, you kind people! Feedback is always appreciated, Hopefully, this will be enjoyable too. Who will this stranger be? What will happen next? Will the cliffhangers stop?**

**Love from Shania. xx**


	3. Bahih (Company)

**Durjel- Khuz-dul for 'curious' **

**Courtesy of Dwarrow Scholar!**

* * *

The stranger at least wasn't an enemy. Curious brown eyes roved over the sleeping She-Hobbit's form and then lowered when they saw the body of her companion. The stranger looked from Belladonna to the East and seemed to make a decision. Gently sliding slim, yet strong arm under the small Hobbit woman, she lifted her with no more difficulty than if she were lifting a small youngling off the ground. Placing the other female safely on the saddle of the horse that she'd been riding before discovering the two, the stranger jumped herself onto the saddle, sitting close behind Belladonna, softly clicked her tongue and once again they were on the move.

* * *

Belladonna dreamed that she was safe in her ma's arms. Bright blue eyes shone down at her, warm arms circled around her protectingly, and a gentle voice told her everything was going to be just fine.

"Mama, I've lost _everyone_."

"Maybe so, but that's not to say that things will end as badly as they've started."

"I'm scared, Mother. I don't know what I'm going to do without him."

Gently brushing back her curls- how many times had Adamanta done that when she needed comfort?- the older woman softly said, "aye, he was taken too soon, my love. But remember, though you may lose people, to death, they will never lose _you _to it. We'll all be looking out for you and my little grandson here."

"I haven't lost him."

"No." Adamanta agreed. "He's alive and you're alive."

"We're alive."

"You're alive," Adamanta repeated. "Stay that way for as long as you are able."

"I will," Belladonna replied. "I'll do that."

A pleased smile lit up Adamanta's face. "That's good. Now, dear, wake up."

"What?"

"Wake up."

* * *

The stranger had been slightly afraid for the little one when she still refused to awaken. She'd tried talking to her, brushing her curls, telling her that she was still living, but she barely even stirred and out of nothing other than desperation, the other woman resorted to simply asking her to awaken.

And it was working. Eyes of a light turquoise fluttered open and stared into the deep brown of her finder.

Belladonna could see lots of long, thick red hair, brown eyes and spotted the tips of pointed ears through the impressively long locks falling from the other's head. She'd never seen a redheaded Elf before.

"What's your name?" the Elf questioned.

"Belladonna Baggins. What's yours?"

"Tauriel."

"How did you find me?"

"I was passing through," Tauriel answered. "I had business in Rivendell. You know, I've never seen one of you this far East."

"I'm visiting kin."

"Where do your kin live?"

"I don't know where they live. A kingdom by somewhere called Dale."

"You're visiting Dwarves?"

"I'm visiting _kin_," Belladonna reminded.

"You have Hobbit kin in Dale, or Erebor?"

Belladonna shook her head. "No Hobbit kin anymore. Goblins attacked our home. Bungo and I barely managed to escape."

Tauriel looked horror-stricken. "That's terrible. I'm sorry for your loss."

Belladonna nodded, before looking around the thicker trees that surrounded them. "Where are we?"

"I didn't want to risk staying by the Mountains when there were Goblins close by, so I rode fast away from them, taking the paths I know to get to my home faster. We're safe here, and we're closer to Greenwood."

"Greenwood?"

"My home. If you wish, I'll take you through it to the borders of Dale."

"How far are we from Greenwood?"

"Several weeks."

* * *

Finding Tauriel (or Tauriel finding her) was the most fortunate thing to happen to Belladonna in three and a half months. The Elf kept her warm, safe, fed, and often gave her bump an affectionate touch. One thing, Tauriel told her, that nearly all races have in common is a fierce love of not just their children, but any child.

"It's a love that unites us," Tauriel said one evening. "Take Elves and Dwarves as an example. Both races agree that children are most precious."

It turned out Elves rarely had more than four children. Tauriel was astounded to hear about Belladonna's eleven brothers and sisters. Dwarves had even less than that.

"Their heads would spin," Tauriel said, "if they found out one of their own had so many children.

By the time they reached the gate into Greenwood, both knew more than enough about the other. Belladonna frowned uneasily at the forest.

"What is it?"

"It looks like it's sickening. As though it's getting an illness of some kind."

Tauriel laughed. "It's fine, it's just got different trees to other forests."

That may have been so, but the forest was dark, sunlight barely filtering through the leaves and branches of the trees above. It was almost suffocating in there, and Belladonna felt certain that there were eyes watching her every move, though she never saw any. She stayed close to Tauriel's side, the fear she felt quelled with the Elven warrior so close by.

One night, Tauriel spotted Bellladonna twisting her grandfather's ring around her finger. It was of a dark gold and the sparkling red gem gleamed as the younger being absent-mindedly played with it.

"Is that your engagement stone?"

"Hm? Oh, no! It was my grandfather's. He gave it to my mother and she passed it onto me."

"May I look?"

Belladonna extended her hand to the Elvish woman who looked at its sturdy design, at the 'claws' holding the jewel in place and wondered if Tauriel would be able to tell her if she recognised the ring.

"I've never seen a design like it before," Tauriel said, releasing Belladonna's hand. "Perhaps there are Dwarves who will recognise it."

"Maybe."

* * *

Soon they were safely out of the accursed forest (Belladonna swearing to herself that she never again would enter it) and heading towards a large bustling city floating on the silvery surface of a colossal lake. Literally colossal. Belladonna had never seen anything quite like it in all her life.

"Aren't they afraid their homes will drift away?"

"No, it is quite secure," Tauriel assured her. "I would have us stop there. You need rest in a decent bed."

Belladonna sighed, "very well. But I'd like to be as close to the land as is possible."

* * *

The wooden planking beneath her feet creaked at moments, making Belladonna very tense as she walked across the pier. Tauriel seemed remarkably unconcerned about it as she led her horse to a nearby stable, murmuring something to the Man working there. Belladonna could see a Dwarf standing by a stall selling knives, picks and other tools. She started walking to where the Dwarf stood, not noticing the shining patch of water lying over the planks and skidded, landing on her hip, pain exploding through her small body. The Dwarf turned around.  
The Dwarf in question, she could now see was definitely a male a thick, dark beard seemingly about to split into two parts falling onto his chest. He wore a red tunic with a silver pattern etched on the hems,and black trousers , a pair of leather boots covering his feet. Tucking a lock of dark brown behind his ear, he walked over, his hand outstretched.

"Took a nasty fall there. You alright?"

Nodding her head, Belladonna took the hand offered. "Thank you."

The Dwarf noticed the ring on Belladonna's hand. Staring at it, he asked, "Where'd you get this from?"

"It belonged to my grandfather. His name was... Durjel, I believe. He came from these parts." The Dwarrow kept staring at the ring, his kindly blue eyes wide. Belladonna started to worry. "Did you know him?"

The brunette nodded. "Aye. He was my father's cousin."

* * *

Actually, it was revealed, Durjel had been this Dwarf's father's _third_ cousin.

"But no less wonderful," the Dwarrow added. His name was Balin and he was Royal Advisor or something like that, to the King, Thrain. "He was completely mad, I remember my father coming home one night muttering that Durjel had lost the plot." Balin's gave Belladonna a warm smile. "But he never stopped loving him. Durjel was like a brother to him."

"Did your family ever meet my grandmother?" Belladonna asked.

"Our family, you mean. And, yes, my father did. I never got to, unfortunately." His blue eyes narrowed slightly as though in thought. "What brings you up here, if you don't mind my asking?"

"There was.." Belladonna cleared her throat, trying to ease the words out. "We were attacked by Goblins. I have no other kin left alive."

The statement she'd thought she needed to say, didn't need saying. It hung in the cool evening air like the mist on the mountains the Goblins resided in.

_I need somewhere to stay._

"Come back to Erebor with me," Balin gently requested. At Tauriel's somewhat sharp look, he added. "After you've gotten rest, of course."

* * *

The proper bed that Tauriel had so highly recommended was, as the Elf predicted, what Belladonna needed the most. The mattress was soft, the pillows were warm and she spent a few minutes blinking her eyes which were burning with sudden exhaustion, sleepily thinking about the baby that was currently curled up inside her womb.

She would protect him, she thought to herself groggily. She would protect him from anything and everything that may hurt him.

He would be safe.

But would she?

* * *

**Would she, indeed? Hey, this is actually getting along alright so far! So, Belladonna's about six months gone, nearly seven, if that helps any of you. I couldn't resist putting Tauriel in there, could I? *shakes head at self*  
Originally, I was going to have Bofur and Bombur's mother being Belladonna's relative. But I thought, you know, 'I love Balin. Balin's awesome. I'll have Balin in there, not a person whose everything I'm making up.' And Dwalin will be there too, naturally!  
So, we'll be meeting Fundin and Dwalin next chapter!**

**Hope this was enjoyed, thank you for the reviews and I'll answer questions and other things here.**

**Anime Princess: That is an excellent point! Yes, some Hobbits will have survived, Bungo, Belladonna and Bilbo weren't the only ones able to escape (I'm not quite that evil. Yet) However, Bilbo and Belladonna may end up being the last descendants of the Took clan. Unless...**

**Say YO-SARIEL: Here it is!**

**To the Guest who liked it despite the changes: I'm so glad you liked it!**

**So, yeah, here's the third chapter and I hope it will be enjoyed :)**

**Love from Shania. xx**


	4. Nurîn

**So, Thorin was 140 years old when Bilbo was born. Dwarves come of age at 72, I believe. Despite the fact I'd like to have Thorin as King, I'll keep him as a prince. Thrain deserves to be King too. **

**___Nín neth mellon- _My young friend**

**_Periannath- _Hobbit**

**_i_****_dùzhib_**- **Khuzdul for diamond (as in the jewel)**

* * *

"I _knew _ you were skilled at interrogating." Belladonna remarked to Tauriel.

A slim dark eyebrow rose in interest. "Oh?"

"Yes. You got me to tell you about everything and now you've done exactly the same to him." Belladonna nodded towards her newly-found relative, who was examining a stall of furs.

"I had to make sure he wasn't a danger to you." Tauriel said.

"I see. And what have you found?" Belladonna asked.

"He seems trustworthy," the Elf glanced down at her companion. "His younger brother is guardian of the Crown Prince and of the Prince's younger sibling."

"So, he _does_ work with royalty?"

Tauriel nodded. "Only members of the royal court would know the answers to the questions I asked him."

"Is he and my grandfather of the royal court, then?"

"I believe so. He was related to Lord Fundin however distantly." Tauriel turned her clear brown eyes on Belladonna's blue-green ones. "I do not always like Dwarves, but I know they hold a deep love for family," a gentle smile crept over her features, "even those they've never seen. It may take some time for them to get used to you, little one."

"It often does take people a long time to get used to me," Belladonna said remembering, with an ache, her first meetings with Bungo's family. The Baggins family had never quite gotten to trust her, and she always regretted that, more so now than ever.

Tauriel crouched down by the _periannath. _"_Nín neth mellon. _As long as you have memories of your love, you will have him. Do you understand what I am saying?"

"Yes," Belladonna answered. "Don't worry yourself, I'll be fine."

The Elf wasn't at all convinced, but stood up, gazing down at the pregnant She-Hobbit. Not for the first time, she wondered how it was that Men, and Halflings too, it seemed, could bear and give birth to children without needing the full year to do so. Perhaps it was because they were smaller, she thought. Though the women of the race of Men were taller than this small creature was.

It really was most confusing.

* * *

The borders of Dale grew closer, and with each step, Tauriel kept glancing at her _ periannath-mellon _ to the Dwarrow who kept looking over her as though he was searching for something in Belladonna's golden curls, pale skin or those green-blue eyes that appeared to be missing something in their gaze.

He did care for his younger relative, Tauriel knew, she could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at her as though she was something precious and wonderful to behold. Only Belladonna did not seem to notice this, until the night her unborn child began to remind his mother of his presence.

Belladonna grunted as a dull pain ran through her stomach. He'd begun to grow more active as the months went on, and she held her stomach tightly, unable to stop little murmurs of surprise as he kept kicking.

"Belladonna?"

"'Baby's kicking." Belladonna gasped as the baby gave his hardest kick yet.

"That's a good sign, a healthy sign."

Turning her head, Belladonna could see a little smile play around Balin's mouth. "I know. My little brother-" she stopped, unable to go on. Her youngest brother had been her favourite, he'd accompanied her on many of her adventures, and he'd been very pleased and excited once informed of his impending uncle-hood. The thought of his torn, decaying body stilled her heart and made her eyes burn and prickle. Tightly squeezing her eyes, shut, he jumped to feel a wide, warm hand settle itself on her shoulder.

"Don't fight your grief, _idùzhib._There's no shame or weakness in weeping for loved ones."

It sounded like something Bungo would say, and it was perhaps what allowed Belladonna's locked away tears to come out from her eyes and make their way down her cheeks, travelling over too-sharp cheekbones. The hand on her shoulder was swiftly replaced with an arm and as her tears were joined by harsh sobs, she was turned and pressed against a firm chest that was covered with soft fabric. Whether it was her Elf or Dwarf companion, she didn't know, nor did she care.

For the first time, she let herself cry.

* * *

In all her life, Belladonna had never seen so many Dwarves. She'd seen Men, you couldn't go into Bree without seeing them, but she'd had very few sightings of Dwarves, with the exception of Balin, and this was a whole new experience. She missed Tauriel, who had informed them that she could go no further, that she had to return to Greenwood, though she promised she would come back to see her and her and her Fauntling.  
For now, she stayed close to Balin, hands splayed over her stomach as though to protect her son from the bustling crowd of Dwarrows that s surrounded them.

It really was interesting, she thought. There were mostly male Dwarves, but the females she saw had beards! Perhaps not as thick as their male counterparts, but there was distinctive facial hair and it was hard to avoid staring at them.

Ahead of herself and her guide, she could see two large, green gates. They were colossal and unlike anything she had ever seen, and she stepped even closer to Balin, eyeing the guards standing by the doors. Both had thick, heavily beaded beards and wore shining, silver armour. One of them tipped up his helmet and spoke to them.

"Who is that with you, my lord?"

"Kin," Balin answered. "Open the gates."

The guard looked at Belladonna's feet with their tufts of hair brushing against the hems of her stained, black trousers, but nodded and gestured to a person in a tower above said gates.

As they began to open, making a loud, grating sound as they did, Balin turned to Belladonna.

"Welcome," he said, "to Erebor."

* * *

They were joined, around fifteen minutes into their walk to wherever they were going, by a tall Dwarf, his hair gone completely on his head, but owning a long, thick beard that reached his chest. He looked down at Belladonna through thick eyebrows, eyes showing surprise.

"Your One?"

Balin shook his head. "No, she's not. Belladonna, this is Dwalin, my brother. Dwalin, this is Belladonna. She's Durjel's granddaughter."

"Durjel? You mean our father's cousin?"

"She bears his ring and knows his name and story."

The suspicious look that had been on Dwalin's face lifted and he gave her a smile. "Pleased to meet you, Belladonna."

"As am I, it's very nice to meet you."

"What brings you to Erebor?"

"I...I have nowhere else to go," Belladonna murmured.

Dwalin glanced curiously over to Balin, who lay a hand on his new-found kin's arm. "We're nearly back to our place now, lass. We'll get you and your baby rested shortly."

"Baby?" Dwalin asked.

"Mmm. I'm pregnant."

Dwalin was staring at her with wide, astounded eyes. "That's... when is it due?"

Balin fought a smile. Not many knew, but Dwalin had a ridiculously sweet soft spot for babies. Memories of his brother carrying the young princes (and princess) of Erebor in his muscled arms swam in his mind and he nearly did smile at the thought of Dwalin's delight at seeing a Hobbitling. Probably Belladonna would have to fight to be able to hold her baby once he was born.

* * *

Belladonna felt warmed immediately once she entered the stone home. Outside it looked dark, damp and cold. Inside it was bright, warm and dry, despite the fact it was stone inside too. There were thick, fur rugs covering the floor, swords and spears and axes covering the walls.

"Go on and sit," Dwalin said, pointing to a chair of a deep, red material.

She did, and it was comfortable, so comfortable, that it exploited the feelings of tiredness that continued to plague her and she could hardly stop her eyes from drooping. Though she fought the need, the urge to sleep overcame her wishes and she soon drifted to a place of darkness, where metal clanged and fire roared.

* * *

**Bit short, but wasn't a bad chapter, was it? Could've been worse, I suppose. Hope you enjoyed!**

**Love from Shania. xx**


	5. Baruf (The Family)

**Just so you know, the reason that Balin, Frerin and any other Dwarf say Khuzdul to Belladonna is because she's part Dwarrow, so they're thinking, "It's fine, she's family, we can teach her these words."**

**_Melekinh_- Hobbit lady**

**_Sanmuhud_ - Perfect blessing**

**Dis was born in 2760, which makes her 99 years old when she had Fili (born in 2859) and then 104 years old when she had Kili (born in 2864) . So, Fili is 32 years older than Bilbo (Amazing, but true), making Dis 131 years old. **

**Frerin was born in 2751, making him nine years older than Dis, meaning he's around 140. Canonically, he was only 48 years old when he died! **

**Then there's Thorin who's 144, born in 2746.**

**If we consider that Dwarves come of age at 72, and assume that their coming of age age is equivalent to a human coming of age at 18 years, that would leave Fili at the age of, like, nine and Kili around 7-8. Aww. Just imagine them at that age. Hell, imagine them all at that age. How unbelievably adorable would that be?**

* * *

She didn't know how long she slept, but when she awoke, it was to voices she didn't recognise. Straightening her body out, she glanced around her surroundings, blearily wondering where the two brothers had gone to. She stretched and yawned, closing her eyes only briefly, to find a stranger staring at her when she once again opened them.  
He was a Dwarf, thick dark hair reaching to his shoulders, blue eyes like the summer sky staring into hers, silvery beads in his dark locks. He wore a deep blue tunic, the colour of her own she noticed, only this one bore silver stitching not unlike the pattern on Balin's tunic.

"Who are you?" Belladonna asked.

The stranger gave her a smile. "I am Frerin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. Yourself?"

"Belladonna, daughter of Gerontius Took," Belladonna answered.

"Balin says you're Durjel's granddaughter." Frerin said, seating himself on the arm of her chair.

"He's right."

"He also said you ran into Goblins." Frerin told her, playing with the cuff of his sleeve. "I'm sorry about that."

"They ran into _us_ first." Belladonna muttered bitterly.

Frerin said nothing for a moment, before his eyes turned kindly and he placed a hand on hers, saying confidently, "you came to _exactly _the right place."

Belladonna looked at the young Dwarf, who gazed intently back at her. "I think you're right." She heard the other murmuring voices again and looked in their direction. "Who are they?"

"My sister, Dis. She likes to sing while she cooks."

"Does she live with Balin and Dwalin?"

To her surprise, Frerin laughed. "Mahal, no! She lives with her two _beautiful _lads. She came over with me to make sure you were alright while Balin took his brother to see my father."

"You don't need to bother yourselves. I can look after myself."

"Maybe so, little _melekinh. _But we'd rather stay with you to be certain. Especially when you've a little one on the way." Frerin gave a little smile. "I remember when our sister was pregnant, we barely left her side. Both times. She was about ready to murder us before her second was born."

" You have another sibling, don't you?"

Frerin nodded, still wearing a smile. "Aye. I've an older brother. His name's Thorin."

* * *

Thrain looked over at his wife, Sanmuhud, who looked with curiosity in her golden eyes at their third cousin. "Durjel is dead?"

"Along with most his grandchild's family," Dwalin said.

"Shame," Thrain murmured, shaking his head. "So, he has a granddaughter, pregnant and widowed. How old is she?"

"Only 47 years." Balin answered

"Why was she allowed to marry so young?" Sanmuhud questioned.

"Apparently, it's a reasonable age for marriage and children in the Shire. Or it _was_."

Thrain stood, giving his kin a look with something like empathy in the depths of his sapphire-like eyes. "I'd like to meet her."

"She's quite withdrawn," Balin warned. "It's as though the impact of all that's happened is finally catching up to her."

"Bring her..." Thrain stopped at his wife's warning look,"..if you can, that is."

"Does she look like him?" Sanmuhud wanted to know.

"Not in the slightest." Dwalin answered.

"Not quite true," Balin remarked. "She has his eyes, or were you too busy staring at her bump to notice?"

Dwalin gave his brother an annoyed look that was betrayed by the hint of a smile. "Stared into 'em a lot, have you?" he asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

The glare Balin shot his sibling was terrifying.

* * *

Belladonna watched as Dis placed a mug of some steaming liquid by her side, and then looked closer at the Dwarrowdam. Bright blue eyes, like Frerin's, but they were a darker, deeper blue than his. She, too, had long black hair, threaded with silver beads and one in particular which was golden with a shining, green emerald proudly gleaming in its centre. She wore a gown of soft, silvery material, dark blue bordering its hems, covering the sleeves and flitting across the collar. She also had little tufts of dark hair growing from her cheeks, a group of hair by her chin gathered into more of those silver beads that decorated the hair on her head. As her hand, surprisingly big, came to check her forehead, Belladonna noticed a giant ring on her hand which was golden, and bearing a large milky white jewel with the colours of the rainbow dancing across whenever it hit the light.

"You'll be alright, you know." Dis told her, those deep blue eyes staring into her own light turquoise ones. "I know it seems like everything's crushing in on you, but you'll be alright."

"How can you know that?"

"Did Frerin mention my husband to you?"

Belladonna shook her head.

"That's because he no longer walks among us. He's dead and _that's _how I know that."

Belladonna lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Hush. You couldn't have known." Dis paused and looked down at the younger female's middle. "My Fiach never got to see his youngest either."

"There is no youngest. This is my first," Belladonna rubbed her stomach. "And my only." She looked back up at the Dwarf princess who was looking at her steadily. "Do you mind if I ask what happened to your husband?"

"He was a miner," answered Dis. "There was a cave-in and he didn't survive it." Dis' sorrow lifted and she smiled softly. "You can imagine my delight when I found out Kili was on the way."

"Who is with your sons?"

"I left them with Thorin. They should be alright."

* * *

"Uncle, when can we see our new cousin?"

Thorin looked down at the two beardlings who were gazing up at him with big, hopeful eyes. It really was, he thought, most unfair how they ganged up and tried to get him to agree to doing things just by staring at him.

"I have told you," he said, "not until Balin and Dwalin finish talking to Grandpa and Nana."

"But they're taking _so _long!"

That was true and Thorin could well understand his two nephew's boredom. However, he knew his parents and cousins wouldn't be much longer and reminded the two to just be patient.

Kili raised his arms up, wanting his uncle to pick him up. Considering he'd been standing around for so long, Thorin relented and hoisted Kili up with one arm and then drew Fili closer with another. His elder nephew had made no request, but Thorin knew he was getting bored too and would appreciate having something to lean on that wasn't hard and cold.

"You're getting so big, I won't be able to do this anymore, soon."

Kili shrugged. "I'll stop growing, then."

Thorin couldn't stop his laughter. "I don't think you'll be able to that, _nidoyith."_

"Will we ever be as big as you?" Fili asked, gazing up at his uncle.

"Hmm. Maybe."

They were tiny little things, though Frerin thought he was biased as a result of being 'stupidly tall'. Still, Thorin entertained himself with thoughts of just how tall Fili and Kili would grow to be while the younger shifted himself about , and the elder reached a hand up to make sure his little brother didn't tumble out of their uncle's firm hold.  
A silence fell, broken by the sound of the door handle turning.


	6. Kheled (Mirror)

**_Melekinh_- She-Hobbit**

**Surprise! New chapter! Hope you all enjoy it!**

* * *

Kili could feel his heart thumping wildly in his chest. A new cousin! And there would be a baby, too! He looked down at his big brother, noticing that Fee's eyes were round and excited, just as his probably were. He felt himself being passed along to Dwalin and looking back at Uncle Thorin, noticed that Fili was being lifted up, too.

"We'll never arrive before _midnight_ with you two being so slow!" Dwalin teased.

"It's not our fault you spent so long talking!" Kili replied.

Fili buried his head in Thorin's shoulder, giggling, trying his best to quieten as Thorin told Kili to mind his manners. When his laughter had gone, he looked up, grinning when he saw the familiar door that hid their latest family member.

* * *

Dis looked up from Belladonna as she heard the sound of a lock being turned in a key. The _melekinh _stood and brushed curls behind her pointed ears, biting her lip.

The first thing Belladonna noticed was the young child Dwalin held in his burly arms. The child had doe-like brown eyes, dark hair brushing his shoulders, and wore a tiny steel-blue tunic and black trousers, wearing a pair of unbelievably small shoes on his little feet.

The second thing she noticed was another child, this one blonde with eyes like the depths of the deepest lake, such a dark blue were they. He seemed older than the other child, and he wore a brown tunic and trousers of a dark brown and he wore boots that, too, were covering tiny feet.

And then she noticed who was holding the blonde child. Blue eyes like Frerin, dark locks like the brother and sister bore, wearing a tunic of deep, deep blue, wearing a fur-trimmed coat that hovered inches off the ground, an intricate braid uniting several of those black tresses and ending with a bead that was of a silver colour, yet so different from silver. He had a thick, yet short beard, though like Dis, he had gathered hair from it and kept it together with beads. So, this was Thorin.

"Hello," Belladonna greeted.

The new Dwarf said nothing, simply looking at her with those sharp eyes, before finally saying, "How are you?"

She didn't really know how she was, so settled for giving a non-committal shrug, which the Dwarf said nothing to. He suddenly remembered that he was holding the young blonde and lowered him down from his arms, Dwalin copying his actions.

The eldest seemed content to walk over to her, but his dark-haired younger counterpart seemed to think there was no time for walking and ran over to her, stopping centimeters from her stomach. He looked from it to her, an expression of wonder on his face. His brother caught up to him, and both looked at each other for a few seconds before coming to a silent decision.  
Cautiously, they both pressed their little hands to her bump, as though trying to find the baby hidden inside.

"Fili, Kili!" Dis scolded. "You mustn't touch things unless you've asked to!"

"It's alright," Belladonna said. It was. They reminded her very much of little Fauntlings who followed her around, asking questions about the baby, even daring to give little, careful pats.

Dis nodded, relieved that Belladonna hadn't taken offence. Most Dwarrowdams would have been angry, but it seemed as though it made Belladonna happy. Beckoning to Thorin, she went back to the kitchen, her elder brother and two cousins at her heels.

* * *

"You are a right prat!" Dis told Thorin, wagging an angry finger in his direction. "'How are you?' How do you _think _she is?!"

"Well, I didn't know what to say!" Thorin argued back.

"The things you don't know could fill several libraries," growled Dis. "You are so clueless at times..."

"More like all the times," Frerin added helpfully.

"And impolite. What would Mother have to say about you?"

"What you need to do," said Frerin, "is go back and be nice. You know, smile, make small talk..."

"Like with our nephews." Thorin suggested.

"Yes!" Dis and Frerin agreed simultaneously.

* * *

_Impolite_. He'd show Dis. Walking back into the living room, he saw that she was now sitting down, Fili and Kili squished by the side of her, asking about her baby. She looked very happy, he noticed. Offering her a bright smile, he walked to the sofa that stood opposite where she was and sat down, trying to think of what he could say.

"How far along..?" He pointed at her swollen stomach.

"Seven months. I should be giving birth in another month. Or two."

"We bear young for nine months."

"Hobbits tend to go through pregnancy for eight." Belladonna looked thoughtful. "My mother's pregnancies varied."

"They would, I suppose."

"You're Thorin, aren't you?"

" I am. Your name is Belladonna?"

"Yes."

"What are you hoping to have?"

"A baby," Belladonna answered.

Thorin couldn't help but smile. "Do you think you'll have a daughter or a son?"

"I think it'll be a boy."

Fili, who had his arms around her bump, softly murmured. "He's going to be our friend."

"Best friend." Kili added. "He can play with us and Gimli and Ori, too."

Belladonna's smile was sad. "The children in the Shire used to want to be his friend too."

"What happened? Why don't they want to anymore?" Kili asked.

Thorin's heart sank. The young princes hadn't been told of the Goblin's attack, and he strongly wished they had told them now.

"They're far away," Belladonna replied. "They're in Yavanna's Green Fields and I don't think they can come back from there."

"Are Yavanna's Green Fields like Mahal's Halls?" Fili wanted to know.

Belladonna was still and quiet for a moment before nodding. "Yes, they are."

* * *

"Father does know that she's grieving for her One, doesn't he?" Dis asked, arms crossed over her chest.

"He does, but he wants to meet her." Balin explained.

"That's all very well, but he doesn't know when to shut up." Frerin reminded them. "He's going to ask question after question and our poor _melekinh _will probably be overwhelmed."

"Alright, now look," Dwalin interrupted. "How about _we ask her _if she feels up to it?"

"Besides, your mother will stop him if she needs to."

This seemed to placate the prince and princess, and they nodded their approval of the plan and moved to exit the room.

Dwalin looked at Balin. "Think she'll be alright?"

"I'm sure she will, brother. She's a strong woman."

* * *

She was certifiably mad, Belladonna thought to herself. Here she was, sitting in a warm bath, the scent of lemon softly floating from the mountains of bubbly foam, scrubbing at her arms and legs with a bar of pine-scented soap in preparation for meeting a King. She'd never met a King before, unless one counted the Elvish Lord who ruled Rivendell as a King, but here she was.  
Spotting a bottle of a peach-coloured shampoo, she lifted it and squirted some of it into her hands, rubbing it fiercely into her pre-dampened curls. Her travelling clothes were filthy and the more Hobbity part of her cringed at the knowledge she'd met royalty wearing them. Dis had said she was going to hunt around for something she could wear, and had looked at her bump as she said it. Probably, she was going to find something accommodating for the baby.

She tenderly stroked her stomach, feeling a slight nudge as the baby moved around. Grabbing the sides of the tub, she hauled herself up and placed a foot on the rug near the bath. She'd been left a bath-robe that was deep purple in colour and she rubbed herself dry with one of the large towels lying over a small table, wrapped it around herself and wriggled into the bathrobe. She found a ribbon and twisted her hair into a knot and tied it up to avoid dampening her robe and exited the bathroom.

"Go in there to change, lass." Balin said, handing her a bundle and pointing towards a door that was set far down a hallway of great length.

There were many doors, all set far apart, and as Belladonna wandered down the passage, she wondered how many rooms were in the building. There seemed to be many and considering there was only two of the Dwarves who lived here, this confused her.

The room was of a rock smooth and pale, a hint of blue running over its surface. Over the dark stone of the floor was a deep blue carpet that barely covered the entirety of the ground. She padded over it to the surprisingly large bed that held an icy blue quilt and placed her new clothing on top of it, looking around her surroundings. There was a small fireplace that held a crackling fire and she couldn't feel its warmth. This worried her, how was it so that she couldn't feel the heat of the fire? In fact, now that she thought about it, there wasn't much she could feel anymore. Hunger was gone. She no longer had any appetite, and that was concerning, especially as Hobbits and Dwarrows alike have strong appetites. She didn't know why she no longer felt for heat and food, but pushed these thoughts to the back of her head.

Perhaps it was exhaustion.

Still, she had kin to meet, so she ignored it once more and dug through her pack for her hairbrush. Brushing through her curls, she caught sight of herself in a small looking glass and blinked.

Sharp cheekbones, large eyes, pale skin, dark shadows under her eye-sockets... what had happened to the layer of fat hiding those cheekbones? What had happened to her eyes to make them so bulbous? Where had the healthy, tanned glow to her skin gone and just what were those marks doing?  
She'd never lost weight this much. She knew, of course, that a Hobbit will lose weight quickly if they don't eat enough, but she'd always been well-equipped when going on her adventures and had never lost more than a pound or so.

"What has happened to you?" Belladonna asked her reflection.

Her mirror's image stared back at her and said nothing.

* * *

She had been given a dress. She had a suspicion that if a Dwarrowdam had been wearing it, it would have barely reached her ankles, but it fell over her bump and stayed a reasonable length. It was pale blue and had sleeves reaching to the middle of her forearms. Little, sparkling clear jewels glittered around the bodice and she slipped Durjel's ring back onto her finger where it nestled safely beside her wedding ring and went out, not before giving her reflection a last, anxious glance, as though hoping that she would have returned to normal in those few minutes.


	7. Katûbel (The Knowledge of All Knowledge)

So, this was the Hobbit. As Thrain dragged curious, crystal blue eyes over the worryingly small female that stood before him, her too-clear, dim turquoise eyes staring blankly ahead, he felt a twinge of fear for her.

She looked exactly as Dis had after Fiach's untimely demise.

She'd been so still, so pain-struck, so very _cold_, his beautiful girl. She had done her best to be strong for Fili, and it was her eldest son and the news of her second that had brought her a reason to keep living. The woman who he was now looking at seemed completely _shattered_.

She was worse off than Dis had been, Thrain realised, with a sinking feeling. They would have to do something to help her.

* * *

He was nice enough, though he had a somewhat intimidating air around him. His thick beard, silvery beads glinting like stars threaded through the hairs, his blue eyes that shone with a quiet fire helped Belladonna wish to not look too long at the King. She would have been asking questions, looking intently at him years earlier, she knew, but for now, she wished simply to be alone, to not talk or see anyone.

His Queen was beautiful, long golden hair interwoven with silver flowing over her shoulders, beads of many gems of bright colours adorning her locks. She had silvery eyes that seemed knowing and were gentle, but looking at them too long made Belladonna look away, a feeling of pain jolt through her every time she saw those eyes.

Sanmuhud reminded her of Adamanta.

So, she kept her gaze to the marbled ground and followed closely behind Balin, murmuring a reply whenever someone asked her a question. Years ago, she would have been mortified at how she acted with them, but now all she wanted was to be somewhere dark, somewhere quiet, somewhere lonely.

"Miss Bella?"

_Young Hamfast, his brown eyes large and sweet looked up at her, gazing wonder-struck at her stomach. "Is it true you'll be having a baby?"_

_Belladonna laughed softly. "Indeed, it is." _

_A wide grin lit up the young Fauntling's face. "Can I play with it when it's born?"_

_"You'll have to wait," she told him. "But I'm certain he'll like to be your friend._

"Belladonna?"

At their youngest heir's soft whisper, the _melekinh _ had gone very still, very tense. Now, she was staring at nothing, her eyes sorrowful and drained, as though recalling a painful memory. Now she swayed lightly at their attention, looking up slowly.

"Are you alright?"

Belladonna nodded. She wasn't completely sure what they were saying, but decided she could do quite well without all the fuss.

* * *

Thrain was talking to her. Belladonna was quite aware of this and kept nodding silently, praying his chattering would end soon. Sanmuhud gave her husband a nudge, raising her eyebrow, a gesture Belladonna recognised quite well as the 'shut up, you fool' gesture used by her mother to her father. She forced herself to avoid thinking of her parents and instead focused on her copper plate.

It had a thick slice of meat on it, and as she poked the steak with her fork, she noticed a dribble of red ooze out.

_He was dead. Her darling husband, her soul-mate had passed on, leaving her with dark, warm liquid staining her hands. She could see his eyes, staring and lifeless._

_His blood was on her hands._

His blood was still on her hands. She stared at them, briefly seeing them how they had been. Even though they were pale and clean, the memory flashed in her eyes. She pushed her plate away. She wasn't hungry anyway.

"What are you going to name the little one?" Thrain asked.

Belladonna shrugged and mumbled, hoping it would placate the Dwarrow. It didn't. Thrain was starting to look as concerned as he'd felt.

"You don't look well."

"I'm fine."

Both the Queen and her daughter exchanged a look that went unnoticed by the others. Dis pushed her chair back and rose. "Come, let's get you some air."

"I don't need-"

"Come on." Dis said firmly. "You look like you need air."

* * *

It must have been cold out, for Dis gave a shudder, but Belladonna couldn't feel the chill.

"Have you ever heard of Fading?"

"No," answered Belladonna, her pale turquoise eyes meeting the fierce blue of Dis'.

"What happens after Halflings lose their loves?"

"Nothing. We grieve and move on."

Dis stared at Belladonna, her anxiety still brewing inside her mind.

"Although... My aunts and uncle perished after their husbands died. They couldn't look after themselves anymore. Like they were..."

"Fading?" Dis asked, the worry flaring.

Belladonna nodded. "Yes. Fading."

"That's what happens to Dwarves." Dis explained gently. "Even the strongest among us can barely withstand the pain of losing our One."

"Are you saying there's something wrong with me?"

"You're not eating, you're pale and quiet, and you look exhausted. Like you're about to keel over." Dis told her. "So, yes. That is what I'm saying."

"You probably had it, too." Belladonna retorted. "And you're still alive."

"Aye, I did. But it's not an easy thing to become healed from."

"It'll be alright." Belladonna said, though she didn't sound as though she herself was convinced.

"Bella, you won't be able to get through it without help. Let us help you."

"I don't need help. I am fine." Belladonna took a couple of steps back from the dark-haired woman. "I don't have this Fading. I'm pregnant, I'm going to get tired and I'm going to lose my appetite. There's nothing wrong."

There was, and she knew it, but she strongly hoped that it was indeed to do with her pregnancy and not anything to do with this horrible-sounding illness that the Dwarf had just told her of. Dis looked neutral, though her dark eyes betrayed a somber, knowing look.

"If you do have this illness, without aid it will kill you."

Opening her mouth to reply that she was certain that she did _not_ have it, thank you very much, Belladonna was interrupted with a soft nudge from her baby's foot. Hazily, she wondered that if she were to die, who would look after her son? But it was all ridiculous! She would know if she was so seriously ill.

"I do not need aid, because I am perfectly healthy, thank you. All I am is tired, which I was told is normal for the child-bearing period."

Dis stared at her for a long moment, before nodding, the look in her eyes now downcast. "Let's get you back inside then, _melekinh_."

* * *

"So, she is more stubborn than you?" Thorin asked.

Dis placed her hands on her hips and glared at her elder brother warningly. "I was not _stubborn_, I was _convinced_ I was _fine_, you great idiot."

"Hmm. What are you and Mother thinking?"

"I was thinking we drag her to Oin, but she might not like that."

"I don't think Mother would approve of such a manner." Thorin agreed.

Dis softened her gaze on her eldest sibling. "What was I like during it? I have little memory."

Thorin's eyes were sorrowful. "You were broken, my sister. Pale, unresponsive and cold, like stone. I am glad you do not remember much."

"You were afraid?"

"Afraid? I was terrified. We all were."

"Was I like her?"

Thorin's hand moved to grasp hers, briefly looking down before glancing towards his younger sister again. "I believe your sons helped you get through it. You had something to fight for with Fili's being. She hasn't met her child yet. I think she is worse off than you were."

"I didn't just have Fili, though." Dis squeezed his hand that still held onto hers so tightly. "I had family to help me."

Thorin nodded, the once-haunted look in his eyes gone. "As will she."

* * *

**They know! They're also completely determined to help Belladonna through this, but can they? Will she pull through as Dis did?**

**Please, do continue to let me know if you liked it and why you liked it, or vice versa, if you didn't like it and why you didn't like it. For Mahal's sake, no flames, because constructive criticism is the best criticism.**

**Thanks for the reviews, they were an awesome surprise!**


	8. Mabarâl (The Sleep)

**People have been asking about Smaug, and all I can say to you is, don't worry, everything will be explained! Thank you all for your support :) **

* * *

They did include Oin in Belladonna's situation in the end. The fact was, it wasn't just Belladonna's life in danger, it was the baby still growing inside her that they had to be concerned for, too.  
He was undoubtedly the best healer in Erebor, having delivered just about every baby born in the kingdom (including his own younger brother, according to various rumours) and had played a vital part in bringing Dis out of her Fading. He'd healed injuries the princes had sustained from their many ventures and whipped up tonics and balms to help with any illness of any Dwarrow. Truly gifted with a vast knowledge of medicine, and a good friend to boot, they knew he was the Dwarrow for the job of taking care of the young Hobbit they found themselves with.

"Your bairn will be born soon." Oin remarked, a gentle hand on her stomach. "Seems healthy enough, kicking about, good size from what I can tell."

"Mmm."

"Now," the healer said, looking down at her. "What have you been hiding?"

"Nothing."

Oin snorted. "I've been a healer for a good hundred years, don't bother lying to me."

"I'm simply tired."

"If you continue to avoid accepting and asking for help, you won't just be damaging yourself." Oin told her severely. "You're running low on time before the baby comes , and when he does, just how easy do you think it will be to give birth with your 'tiredness'?"

"I am not _ill_."

"You're not _healthy_. Miss, you are part Dwarrow. Dwarf blood runs through your veins and that is why you are Fading."

"How can you tell if I'm Fading, anyway?"

"I've been in the medical profession longer than you've been alive. And you won't be alive much longer if you go on untreated, I can tell you."

Belladonna drew her knees to her abdomen as best she could and hugged them. "What do you suggest then?"

Pleased they were making some progress, Oin dropped to his knees, now looking up at her. "You have to fight your demons on this one, my girl. Aye, it'll be hard to do, but you've got to remember that you've got his bairn to think of."

"I don't... I don't know if I can. It feels as though there's no warmth, no joy in life. I was telling the truth, Mr. Oin. I _do _feel tired."

Brushing a limp curl back from her face, Oin sincerely hoped they would be able to save her. "We _will_ help you. Just keep on fighting, lass."

* * *

She could no longer eat meat, finding the idea of chewing on what had once been a living thing too vile to bear. Instead, she attempted to eat fruits, vegetable soups, bread even though she found them tasteless now. Even though she tried, sometimes having to force her meals down, it often felt diffcult to swallow even foods that didn't require chewing to begin with. Often she thought she would like to give up on the idea of eating, but a voice that sounded much like Oin's reminded her of her unborn child, and this motivated her to keep going, even though she didn't wish for it.  
The weight she'd lost refused to return and this puzzled her, though she decided that it would eventually.

She wasn't actually eating as much as she should have been, though she didn't notice this and neither did anyone else. If Bungo had been alive, he would have pointed this out to her and made sure she ate plenty for herself and her child. But he wasn't alive, he had crossed over to Yavanna's Fields and he was unable to help his grieving wife.  
Her body was working too hard with limited energy and this caused her feelings of exhaustion to remain, feelings that she decided _had _to do with her pregnancy. She knew she was eating more, and sincerely thought it would aid in her recovery.

She was wrong.

* * *

It was the eighth month of pregnancy and she couldn't go anywhere without having a random Dwarf stopping her and asking when she would give birth, had she thought of a name for the little one, and was she hoping for a boy or a girl? She often found she had a guard stuck to her side, usually Dwalin or Balin, but occasionally she'd have Dis or Frerin with her.  
She liked to walk outside of Erebor's gates and stand in the sudden brightness of the sun, watch the glistening of Lake Town in the foreground. Below the Mountain stood Dale and sometimes she watched the town, remembering vaguely the markets of Hobbiton. These visits ended with being taken back to her cousin's home and being asked if she'd felt the warmth of the sun yet, if she could feel the stones underneath her feet. Always she answered 'no' and always the person who had asked had looked distressed by this lack of change.

"If I can't feel anything, won't that make the birth easier?" she asked Oin one evening.

"No, lass. In truth, you will feel _something_ during the birth. It won't be completely painless, but you won't feel as much as most mothers do."

"How long will it be until my feelings come back to me?" Belladonna asked Dis as the Dwarrowdam led her around Erebor.

"It varies. For some the feelings come back, and for others they take longer."

The only feeling Belladonna had was of great exhaustion. Right now, it felt as though there were heavy weights strapped to her legs and around her back. She staggered, managed to regain her balance and then asked her companion, "Did you feel so tired?"

Tired was an understatement. Belladonna didn't know how she was still walking. She put another foot forward only for her leg to crumple and she fell onto her knees, a light gasp escaping at the sudden drop. Hands gripped her shoulders and she caught sight of worried sky-coloured eyes before allowing her exhaustion to dominate her, lowering her head to her chest and falling against Dis.

"Hey, you! Find Master Oin. Thank you. Alright. Come on, love, we'll get you home."

Belladonna didn't know who Dis was talking to. She didn't really care either. Instead, she closed her eyes and was surrounded by the dark blackness of sleep.

* * *

"What can we do?" Frerin asked, glancing to the unconcious Hobbit to his younger sister.

"I didn't sleep, did I?"

"No, you didn't."

"Shush," Oin demanded. "This is the most critical point of Fading, as you should well know. It will help her if she has the voices of loved ones to listen to."

"But the only loved one she has is in there," Frerin protested, gesturing to her bump.

"And what about us?"

"Well-"

"Don't argue, it won't help matters! Frerin, go and find Balin and Dwalin. Dis, do you think you could bring your lads here?"

Dis blinked at him. "My lads?"

"Aye. You said they made her smile before she lost her emotions."

Dis nodded. "That they did. They could help her?"

"I think so. Hurry, now."

* * *

"I am going to be the best uncle in Erebor." Dwalin said, swinging his sword at Thorin.

"I doubt you will, because I am."

"You? The Dwarf who lost his eldest nephew in the mines?"

Blocking Dwalin's attack and slashing upwards at him with his own weapon, Thorin retorted, "You got Frerin and I lost in the dungeons twice, so don't you start acting like you're a perfect uncle!"

"Wasn't an uncle to you, was I?" Dwalin said, giving Thorin a rather self-pleased look.

"No, you were a _mother_." Thorin answered, grinning proudly at his reply.

Dwalin furrowed his eyebrows and launched into a more violent attack, not showing his younger cousin any mercy. Mother indeed! Still, he was impressed at how well Thorin fought with him, blocking his hits, even getting a lot of hits of his own in. He would, he decided, have to teach Belladonna's little one how to fight. Maybe he would be as good a fighter as he was.  
He'd certainly ensure he was better than Thorin.

"Dwalin, Dwalin!"

The hinted panic in Frerin's voice brought the fight to a stop, both warriors exhanging a concerned look as Frerin came running over to them.

"Brother, what is it?"

"She's... She's unconcious, won't wake up. Come on!"

* * *

By the time the trio returned, Belladonna was thrashing around, narrowly missing hitting the two Dwarrow by her side. Her eyes were now open, but their colour was... unnatural. So pale were they, they appeared white, her irises widened so that it seemed her normal eye colour was a very deep black instead of the vibrant green-blue they really were.

"What happened?" Dwalin asked, hurrying to stand by her.

To Oin's disappointment, she barely reacted to the warrior's voice. "She collapsed in the street. We're trying to rouse her."

"She's so close to giving birth. Will her baby be alright?"

Oin was silent for a moment, simply looking down at her, a crease wrinkling his forehead. Finally he answered, "I hope he will."

* * *

She could feel now. She could feel that wherever she was, it was cold and damp. There was darkness everywhere she looked, up, down, behind.. it was so dark, it reminded her of the Goblin tunnel she'd dragged her dead husband through. Far away she could see a faint pinprick of light, white and fierce. As though commanded to, she began walking to the faraway beam.


	9. Lukhudel (The Light of All Lights)

"Wake _up_, Bella!"

"Come on, lass, fight it!"

From where he was perched on his mother's hip, watching the frantic adults try to rouse the now-still, sleeping Hobbit, Kili wondered why they didn't throw cold water on her. Maybe she was fitting, he thought, with her eyes open like that and it would do her no good. Her eyes were scary to look at, he decided, holding tightly onto one of Dis' braids, but if Miss Bella needed him there to help her, he would. Even if it meant looking at those frightening eyes.

Belladonna suddenly groaned and _then she moved_. No one spoke, simply watching her, the silence in the room overwhelming. There was a small sound like a _pop _and Oin paled.

Then, without warning, the quilt underneath where the pregnant woman was lying, started turning darker. She relaxed, but began giving sharp, pained little breaths.

Oin cursed. Looking at the others, he grimly told them three words that left them feeling completely petrified. "The bairn's coming."

* * *

She stumbled, feeling a dull pain in her stomach. She could also feel something warm trickling down he legs, but when she felt them, there was nothing there. The light, bright and pale like moonlight beckoned her on more forcefully than ever, and so, ignoring the pain, she went on.  
She remembered, of course, her pregnancy, but put these new feelings to a trick of nature. After all, how many women in the Shire had thought they were about to give birth when they weren't? She wasn't wet from her waters breaking, so of course the baby couldn't be coming. Still, when she found the light, she decided, she could find help for her child.

* * *

"Right," said Oin, squaring his shoulders and staring at Belladonna's bump. "Someone take the lads out, they don't need to see a woman giving birth at their ages."

Frerin headed to Dis, arms open. "You'll be of more help here than I will."

Dis placed Kili into Frerin's arms. "Look after my sons now." she warned.

"Of course," Frerin agreed, hoisting Fili onto his hip and giving his sister a smile. "I wish you all the luck you'll need."

Placing a hand on her brother's shoulder, Dis gave him a nod. "Be off with you, then."

As Frerin left, Dis exchanged a nervous look with Thorin as she approached the still melekinh on the bed. "Oin, what else will you need?"

Oin was staring at Belladonna, seemingly calculating what would need to be done. "I've got everything I'll need on me."

"You look displeased."

Oin shook his head. "Not displeased. Simply praying that she'll somehow be able to push the baby out."

"What if she can't?"

"I'd have to get him out myself." Oin stated bluntly.

"How? By pulling it out?" Dwalin asked.

"No. By making a cut and taking him out of there that way."

Dwalin was appalled. "You can't do that!"

"Well, if I don't, he'll die. That's why I'm hoping she can push her baby out herself."

"What about her?" Thorin asked. "If you were to cut her, would she die?"

"I'm not sure. Chances are she'd feel it, but I'm not sure how _much_ she'll feel it."

"Childbirth is noticeable during the Fading, but most other pain isn't." Dis told him. "Still, would it be more sensible to give her a pain tonic in case you _will _have to aid the baby out?"

"Aye, it could." Oin agreed. "In my satchel, there's a purple bottle. Get it out, someone, and hand it over to me."

* * *

A violently bitter taste surrounded Belladonna's tongue. She cringed and tried to spit it out, but it felt as though there was something covering her lips, preventing her from evicting the evil taste from her mouth. She breathed through her nose as best she could and tried to avoid swallowing it, but soon succumbed to it, the feeling of suffocation too great.

When it was finally over, she straightened up and coughed and gagged, shuddering at the aftertaste of whatever she had been given and peered at the glimmer in the distance. Hoping to get attacked by nothing else, she kept walking.

* * *

"Didn't like that," Dwalin observed, his dark eyes focused entirely on the softly whimpering Belladonna. He kept a gentle hold on one of her tiny, delicate hands, watching her face for any changes

"That should do it." Oin informed them. "Now, she'll probably let us know about her contractions by making noises. Not loud ones, but noises all the same. Pay close attention to her."

* * *

The dull pains were rapidly turning into sharp ones, tearing through her abdomen and making her grimace and cry out. She held tightly onto her stomach and kept going to the beam that had gone from barely-noticeable to shining fiercely and it appeared less slanted and more straight.

_Like a door_, she mused. _A Dwarven door at that!_

As she came closer, she could see the light's colour was changing, from the bright white to a more orange-golden colour, warm and inviting. Encouraged by it, drawn like a moth to flame, she allowed her legs to continue carrying her, not stopping to think where she was going.

* * *

"Right, we'd best see how far dilated she is."

Averting their eyes as Oin went to make the check, they heard her breathing slow.

"Is that normal?" Dwalin asked.

"Dilation is completely-"

"I meant her breathing. It's slowing down."

Oin gave a stifled sigh as he stood from his inspection. "I'd say she's around half of the way there," he informed the group. "Now, let's check on her airways."

* * *

She felt so.. _happy_ as she got closer to the doorway as she was now calling it. It felt like she was going home after a very long hike or a particularly nerve-wracking adventure. It was as though she would have Bungo there to greet her, as though she would see her family and her friends again. Like she would once again see little rivers and great trees, rolling hills, the lush green of the Shire.  
She could feel her lungs taking in less air and thought nothing of it. How could she when everything felt so right as it hadn't in such a long time?

She was aware of a small pressure on her chest, but it was nothing to fear, it was probably the emotion of joy. Joy at the fact she was _finally _going _home_...

* * *

"She's not responding to compression from _anyone_." Dis told Oin. "What's happening?"

The medic looked nearly grey at this news. "She's nearly gone."

There was a brief silence, broken only by Belladonna's still-quietening breathing.

"What can we do now?" Thorin asked.

"Only thing we can do is hope the baby's birth helps her. Otherwise..." Oin shook his head.

One pair of brown eyes, one pair of black eyes and two pairs of blue eyes focused themselves onto the unconscious _melekinh_. Unknowing of the silent pleads sent her direction, Belladonna slept on, nothing but the occasional breath escaping her still body.

* * *

She could feel a sort of moving in her belly. Probably the baby moving around again, she decided. He was probably excited to meet his family as she was. It was rather fierce, this movement and she had to stop her walking to pat her stomach every so often. There was now sound coming from the doorway and as she neared it, she saw a figure standing in front of it, soft curls of golden light illuminating the figure. Curly hair, she could see, and she could almost see a smile gracing the features of this new arrival.

"Come on, my love."

She almost stopped walking in surprise. "Bungo?"

"That's right, my blossom. Come on. Come back to me."

"I've missed you, my darling husband. I have missed you so.."

"And I've missed _you_, my _perfect_ wife. You're _so_ close. Just a bit further."

She could now feel a strange sensation pushing between her legs. A sort of rubbing, a friction that made her stop and look down at her legs again, but there was nothing there.

"Bella?"

"I'm coming." she promised. "Just wait for me."

"As long as it takes, my lovely."

He would always wait for her.

* * *

"Is _she _pushing?" Dis asked.

"Not her, but luckily, the baby's nearly through. The body truly is a remarkable thing." Oin answered from where he was by the mother-to-be's feet.

"She's barely breathing at all." Dwalin said, watching the slow rise and fall of Belladonna's chest.

"Shall I go and find Balin?" Thorin whispered to Dis.

"I think so. No meeting's as important as this one. Father should understand." Dis quietly replied, watching her cousin.

Rushing over to the door, Thorin barely had it opened when he was thrust to one side by the force of it opening, seemingly by itself, until he heard the familiar tone of Balin speaking. Wondering how the Royal Adviser had known, he went back to the bedroom, just in time to hear-

"-If it wasn't for the two lads, I _never _would've known! How is she?"

"The baby's coming through alright, but-" Dwalin looked up from Belladonna whose hand he still held tightly onto, to his elder brother. "-It seems unlikely she will."

Balin went to Dwalin and placed a gentle hand on his forearm. "There is always hope, _nadadel_." There was a kind of soft warmth in his voice, one the other three had rarely heard Balin use.

Dwalin looked back down at Belladonna. "Aye. I know."

* * *

There was an odd feeling running inside Belladonna's body. Almost as though there was something trying to come out. She prayed that she wasn't becoming ill, that would be awful! All she wanted was to find Bungo, hunt down a bed and cuddle with him, smell his scent of plants, Old Toby, tea and dusty books.  
He was still there. Of course he was. In her life, Bungo was consistent, like a twinkling of a bright star in the night sky. He would always be there, waiting to welcome her anywhere.

"I'm still coming!"

"I know, my snowdrop. Take your time, now. You've had a _very _long journey, don't tire yourself."

She giggled. He always worried so.

* * *

"By the Maker! I can see the head!"

"Look, shoulders!"

Oin shooed everyone further away and got closer to where the bairn was making his exit. There was a steady silence as the healer worked, until Belladonna gave a soft breath of, "Bi-ul-bo"

"Bi-lbo?"

"Shush!" Oin snapped, not looking up. "Quiet all of you, except for Miss Bella here."

* * *

"Should we name our son that?" Belladonna asked.

"Bilbo? Aye, it seems a good name to me, my beauty."

"I can see you."

"And I can see you. You're _very _near."

"Good. Oh, I can't wait for us to all be reunited."

Bungo's chuckle was musical. "Neither can I, Bella."

* * *

The baby was worryingly quiet for a few seconds after being born. He was covered in blood and a slimy gunk, but Oin held him closely to his tunic and announced him to be healthy-looking and gently rocked the child to get him to awaken.

After a minute, his eyes opened. They were a clear blue which was normal for newborns and Oin took this as a good sign. He blinked, taking in this bright new world he found himself in and began to softly whimper, coaxing a relieved sigh from all present (bar his mother). Oin gently placed the baby onto his mother and watched her sharply as her newly-born son began to cry.

* * *

He was holding her hands! After an eternity (or what seemed like one) her Bungo was finally holding her hands! She could feel warm liquid trickling down her face and smiled as she hadn't done in months.

She took a step into the doorway, shivering in delight at the warmth. Half in, she noticed her feet. She was heavily pregnant, she remembered. She shouldn't be _able _to see her feet.

"Bungo, the baby! What's happening?"

"It's alright, he's been born."

"Where is he?"

"In the land of the living."

"I'm _dead_?"

Bungo's eyes were woeful. "We all are now. Why did you think you could talk to me?"

"But... Bilbo.."

"He will be loved." Bungo promised, wrapping a loving arm around her. "He will be loved and adored and taken care of."

"I would have loved and taken care of him." Belladonna whispered.

"I know, angel. But _he _is _alive_. And, who knows? Maybe we'll find a way to watch over him."

"What if we can't?"

"Then we wait until he joins us."

"I hope he doesn't join us for a very long time." Belladonna admitted.

Bungo pressed a kiss to her lips. "Me, too. Hey, et me take you to your brother now. I'm sure you've missed him."

Brushing away a tear, Belladonna gave him a watery smile. "Like crazy."

* * *

***Hides from all of you holding an oakenshield as a defensive measure* I would like a review if you'd be so kind, to tell me my mistakes, what was good, what was crap. The usual, you know.**

**Hope you all liked it!**

_**Nadadel- 'Brother of all brothers'**_


	10. Furkhith (The Life of All Lives)

**I'm sorry, but if Gandalf can tell Frodo it is ten o'clock in the morning, I _will_ assume that this means there is a type of clock in Middle Earth. A grandfather clock. You know, one of those old-fashioned mechanical clocks. Perhaps I'm wrong, maybe they use sundials, but that's my assumption and I'm sticking to it for the ****foreseeable.**

* * *

"Uncle! Uncle Dwalin!"

One good thing, Dwalin thought to himself, about children was undoubtedly the fact they could and quite happily would rouse the sleeping grown-ups. He'd never been late to train the young lads and lasses before, and now it seemed he never would! Rolling onto his back, he grunted as his adopted nephew jumped on top of him, pulling unmercifully at his sleeping tunic.

"Wake up, Uncle!"

"I am awake, lad." Dwalin answered groggily, rubbing at his eyes. "Where's Balin to?"

"Papa's buying eggs. Wake up quickly, or he won't let you have any!"

"I've had his eggs. I'm better off without them." Dwalin mumbled, catching Bilbo in one of his giant hands ere his nephew attempted an attack. "Enough with the jumping, laddie, I'm getting up now."

Seemingly pleased with the new developments, Bilbo allowed himself to slip out of Dwalin's hold and clambered to the edge of the bed before jumping and then running out the room as fast as his tiny legs would take him, only stopping to push the door to close.

Their lad, it seemed, took more after his father than he did his mother. His hair hinted at the colour of the locks Belladonna had, yet it was more coppery than golden. And his eyes were more emerald-green than the bright turquoise of his mother.  
It was amazing, just amazing, how fast the past seven years had gone by. No longer a helpless babe who could barely sit up by himself, he was now an independent, considerably headstrong young child, like any other Dwarfling his age.

Well, mostly. He didn't have the strength most Dwarf children had, and he didn't seem to be growing the hair along his forearms as other children did. Still, he was healthy enough according to Oin, and he was a good lad. Sometimes.

Reaching for his brush and raking it through his beard, Dwalin tried to remember who he would be teaching today. There was young Coelan, son of Cylan. He was tall for one so young, even at only 57 years of age, he was reaching 2 feet in height. He looked much, much older than he truly was, his serious grey eyes and strength making him look more like an adult, than the child he still was. When he came of age, Dwalin had no doubt he would be a true terror on the battlefield.

Swapping his nightclothes for his work tunic, he found trousers and roughly pulled them on before placing his feet inside his boots. Heading to the door, he pushed it open and made his way towards the living area.

"When will Papa be back?" Bilbo asked.

"When did he leave?"

"The big hand was on 3." Bilbo answered, holding up as many fingers.

Crouching down to look closer at his nephew, Dwalin nodded eagerly. "And where was the little one?"

"Seven."

"Well, then, he's been gone for around fifteen minutes. So, he'll be back soon."

"Who am I going to be with today?"

"Balin's going to be meeting with the Mirkwood lot today, and-"

"Elves?!"

"Unfortunately."

For some reason, unknown to all, Bilbo seemed to adore the Elves. Certainly, in the past, he'd been in awe of the tall, willowy creatures as they walked through Erebor's halls and even now, he thought they were simply brilliant. The Elves for their part, had seemed curious about the child at first, wondering where he'd come from, even wondering what he was, though never in earshot of said child. Now, they seemed used to him, though he always was amazed by them.

"Can I see them? Can I, Uncle?"

"They won't be here for long. Several days or so, I hear."

"Will they come back?"

"They're like bad pennies," Dwalin muttered. "Aye, they'll come back."

The news of the Elves' potential return cheered the little one, and he recalled his earlier question, and looked at his uncle. "Will you have me today?"

"I'm training a lad up today. You want to come along?"

"No, thanks. It's a bit boring."

Dwalin chuckled and scooped Bilbo into his arms. "You'll be training yourself, one day!"

* * *

Bilbo did love Frerin, but his (what was it? Third? Fourth? He could never remember) cousin was positively insane. He brought them on walks through the mines, he placed his nephews and little cousin on his back and went sprinting through the palace pretending to be a dragon, he made them hide behind doors and jump out at people unfortunate enough to be coming into the room (usually his unsuspecting older brother) and on one memorable occasion, he 'kidnapped' them and took them to the highest of Erebor's balconies and tried to teach them constellations before giving up on his efforts at education and simply telling them stories of the skies.

Frerin was still one of his most favourite people, despite the many dangers he put them in. He didn't _mean_ to endanger them, he simply wanted to have fun with his younger kin before they got too old.

Now, he looked down at him, grinning almost wolfishly. Bilbo knew this smile and wondered what Frerin had in store for them today. Bilbo looked over at Fili, one of Frerin's nephews. He was also Bilbo's cousin. They were only distant cousins, but they were anything but distant with each other. Fili had blue eyes just like Frerin, but he had flowing golden hair whereas Frerin had dark tresses spilling over his shoulders.  
Kili, his other cousin, was Fili's younger brother and he had dark hair as Frerin did, but instead of blue eyes, his eyes were very brown and dark.

Frerin, Fili and Kili were both older than he was, and all were fairly protective of him, but they didn't smother him as most of his older cousins, or his papa and uncle seemed to enjoy doing.

"Seeing," Frerin began, "as the tree- err, huggers have taken residency in Erebor, I have been forced to promise no pranks on anyone."

Fili and Kili looked crushed at this news. Bilbo looked up at Frerin, wondering more than ever what the adult had planned for them.

"I know, beardlings, I wanted to play a trick or two as well. Still, I am always prepared for anything as you all know."

"What are we doing, Uncle?"

"Visiting the royal safe."

The younger princes looked doubtfully at each other. "Grandpa said we're not allowed to."

"No, he said you're not allowed to by yourselves."

"Is a grownup going to come with us?" Kili asked.

"Yes, me!"

Jumping on the 'let's-tease-Frerin-mercilessly-about-his-maturity' bandwagon, Fili added, "You're an adult?"

Frerin furrowed his eyebrows in mock-anger. "Forget it, then. Have fun being bored."

"We weren't being serious." Fili said, keeping his expression as solemn as he could.

Frerin reached to tuck a strand of hair behind Fili's ear. "I know, you fool. Come on, I'll take you to your future."

* * *

By 'future' Frerin had meant what would be in their future. The royal treasury contained treasures that had belonged to the past kings and queens of Erebor. From ancient, yet well-kept armour to brand-new, shining rare creations of beauty, it contained all matter of things.

"The runes are for the names," Frerin explained, pointing towards golden plaques with etchings scratched into them. They were hammered into the grey stone wall, hanging above the small cavern beneath which held the treasures. "See, that one belongs to Grandpa, and that to Thorin. There's the one that belongs to your _amad.."_

"Why is this treasure ours?"

"Well, not really _ours_, they are all gifts from our past king's or queen's family members and Ones. What you see there are memories of happiness and love from their lives."

"Mama still wears what Papa gave her," Kili said. "She wears the opal ring and the bead."

"Yes, little lad, but she prefers to keep a few big reminders with her rather than keep many small ones."

"Uncle, have you found your One yet?"

Frerin shook his head. "No, but I shall."

"How do you know who your One is?"

"You dream of them." Frerin answered simply. "You dream of their hair, eyes, maybe something only they have and when you dream that dream, you feel euphoric and peaceful. Upon wakening, you usually have this desire to go out and inform that person. Only when you tell them will the desire end." His eyes were slightly dreamy as he talked about this, before suddenly turning serious. "Of course, they may not feel that love for you. And that is when you must be very, very careful."

Fili looked at his younger uncle's items. There may have been no One in Frerin's life, but he certainly had lots of things there. "How important is a One?"

"Pretty important once you've had the Dream," Frerin answered. "However, one type of love is no more nor less important than the other. Look at your uncle and I. We're no closer to having our Dream, but the fact we have the love of our kin and friends is more than good enough for us."

"Do you want a One?" Bilbo asked.

"I'm happy for now." Frerin smiled. "However, I have not been idle this past century, despite what Thorin might have to say about it. I've got everything ready."

"Unlike you to be prepared." Fili grinned.

"Terrible insolence. I don't know where you get it from."

* * *

Having decided there was no possible way any meeting could last more than the 2 hours spent telling the three little ones under his care about the stories of the past monarchs, Frerin led them out of the room and headed up to the meeting room, only to find his father hadn't in fact gotten his meeting over and done with.

Frowning at the door, he muttered crossly, "I miss the days I could scream 'Da' at the top of my lungs and didn't get in trouble for it."

Kili giggled. "Uncle, you didn't!"

"I certainly did, young Kili, and it's a shame I couldn't get away with it now. Let's see if your mother's back from her stint at the mines."

Bilbo loved seeing Fili and Kili's mother. She was tough, but she was also kind and loving, with a warm heart and open arms. When he'd been younger, he used to think that she was his mother, mainly because she was the only woman he saw regularly. However, when he asked her if she was, she looked suddenly saddened and shook her head, telling him that no, she wasn't his _amad_. When questioned further on the subject of his mother, she simply told him he would know when he was older.

He never asked her about his mother again. Just the sudden haunted look in her usually bright, cheerful blue eyes kept coming to mind every time he wanted to ask her. If he asked other people, the response was the same, which put him off asking. Maybe one day, he would ask again. But for now, he would hold back.

* * *

**Aww, you guys are not happy with me, are you? I'm sorry, I didn't _want_ to kill Belladonna, it was an important plot point! If I could have kept her alive, I would. But there was no way around it, I'm sorry. If this was good, please don't hesitate to inform. If it was ungood, again, please don't hesitate to inform. I want to know what you think :)**

**Love from Shania. xx**

**P.S. Succumbing to death is _not_ a form of weakness. It isn't. so please don't say she was weak or selfish to die. **


	11. Zigilnâb (The Silver-Coloured Point)

***breathes sigh of relief* Thanks, guys! I thought you'd all be hugely pissed off at me!**

* * *

"Well, then! I've only just got home and you lot all come in." Dis said, giving the three young ones a warm smile before placing her hands on her hips and raising a thick, black eyebrow at Frerin.

"Can you believe, he's still in that meeting?"

"Yes, I _can _believe, as a matter of fact." Dis answered, swooping down to scoop the children up. "Do you want tea?"

"Wouldn't go amiss. Sit down, sister, I'll get it sorted."

Depositing the three younglings on the sofa, Dis sat and began unlacing her work boots, grabbing her silvery, fur slippers from where they lay on the ground.

"Did you find lots of gems today, Mama?" Fili questioned.

"I found a couple of pretty things, yes. It looks as though there may be a new vein of mithril for us to mine, so we'll have a look at that tomorrow."

"Can we come?" Kili asked.

"Not until you're older," Dis answered, inwardly shuddering at the thought of how much trouble her sons could get into in the mines. Particularly with Bella's child. "Wait 'til you're fifty. Then you may." Looking at Bilbo, she asked, "What did Frerin get up to with you?"

"He took us to the Royal Treasury."

"Did he?"

"I did indeed," Frerin proudly answered, returning with two steaming mugs balanced in one hand and three waterskins clenched tightly in the other. "Tell her, lads."

"He showed us the names of our ancestors-"

"Then he told us about courting-"

Dis gave a small chuckle. "Did he get all sappy, talking about love?"

"Yep!"

"Oi, I did not get _sappy_, thank you very much." Frerin said, looking outraged at the thought.

"But you did talk about it a lot."

"There's nothing wrong with talking about it. I remember, the day before your mother's wedding, she-"

"That is enough, Frerin!" Dis interrupted.

"Come, Dis, it's _nothing _to be ashamed of. You just wanted us to know how _deeply _you adored Fiach. _I_ found it deeply moving."

"You found it hilarious." Dis retorted. "Don't think I didn't notice you cackling away, trying to hide your face in Thorin's shoulder so I wouldn't see."

"Well, I find it deeply moving now." Frerin amended.

Dis simply sipped from her mug, though her eyes betrayed a light twinkle. "Why don't we go down to the marketplace in a bit? You know Father won't be finished for a good few hours at least."

Frerin nodded. "Sounds good enough."

* * *

Bilbo loved the marketplace. It was always full of people, all calling to each other, all exchanging jokes, stories and a few arguments here and there. He loved the stalls too, the one of leathers, the ones with knives, axes and tinderboxes on display, the ones showing flashing jewellery and other ornaments, and the one with balls of brightly-coloured wool that had been painstakingly arranged by the stall's silver-haired owner.

His favourite of all, however, was undoubtedly the toy stall. Mechanical birds, little boxes that played music when you opened them, soft, cuddly toys, dolls of soldiers and princesses and board games. In charge of this stall was an ever-smiling Dwarf who always had an ancient, yet-warm-looking hat crammed on top of dark braids. He positively adored the Dwarflings who came to visit and when he'd created new toys, he always gave a small group said toy in order to 'test' it.

Today, instead of going directly to the toy stall as usual, Dis led them towards the stall with training knives and heavy swords. Glancing down at her eldest son, she gave a soft, proud smile.

"You will be forty this summer," she said. "It is time for you to choose a weapon of your own."

Fili gazed up at his mother. "Right now?"

"We shall return later with your uncles and grandparents," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "But try and think now which you would prefer. Ax, sword, daggers, bow and arrows... any weapon you wish to use, my mountain lion."

Fili glanced over the stall with sudden interest. The weapon he chose now would be his protector through life, he knew, so this would not be a decision to make lightly. The first weapon chosen was the most important, after all. A Dwarf could wield many weapons, but that first one he or she chose, that was the main one they would have until they died.

He was silent and remained so, lost in thought as his mother guided him from the stall of sharp, polished metals and into the crowd of Dwarves behind them.

* * *

Thrain beamed at his golden-haired grandson. Dressed in a silken material of Durin blue, a black cloak draped in silvery fur around the nape, he looked every bit an Erebor prince. Soon, he would be choosing his weapon, an exciting time for all Dwarven families. When it was finally chosen, one couldn't rush these things after all, there would be a huge celebration in honour of Fili's future protector.

"Are you well, _muhud_?" Sanmuhud asked, noticing a look of slight fear in the sapphire-like eyes her grandchild beheld.

"Yes, thank you, Grandmother."

"It is fine to be nervous," she assured him. "Just know that you won't be able to choose it wrong. You'll _know _it, my lad."

Fili let out a breath he'd not known he was containing. "Thank you." He meant it. He'd been apprehensive about his ordeal the whole day and his grandmother's words did much to soothe him.

Sanmuhud encased his hand in hers, giving him a gentle smile. "Are you ready, sweetling?"

Fili nodded. "Yes."

"Good lad," Thorin murmured.

"Know this, there is no such thing as a dishonourable weapon," Thrain warned.

"You've seen us all hold our axes and swords, I know for a fact that Dwalin has shown you a thing or two." Frerin reminded.

Looking up, Fili saw Sanmuhud roll her eyes at the chattering of her family. Grinning at his grandmother and feeling strangely better about the whole thing, Fili squeezed her hand and walked on, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

* * *

A sword. An ax. A set of knives. A long, lean bow with a quiver of arrows. There was even a spear which Fili had never seen any warrior use, but that was beside the point.

He'd never much liked the thought of swinging such an ax around, particularly as the blade didn't look at all big enough. He moved past it, hearing a disappointed sigh followed by a painful thud and an indignant 'ouch!' behind him.

He was not at all chappy about using a bow and arrows. Maybe when he was older, but in honesty he had no interest in them. The spear he decided to leave and he stared at the sword and the knives set in consideration. A sword was good. Provided you kept a good grip on it and didn't go overboard when you aimed at your opponent, a sword was a good weapon in battle, yet...

He failed to see himself fighting with a sword. As good as he knew a sword was, he just could not see himself with it. Instead, he pictured blocking an attack with a sturdy knife, attacking with another that was held securely in a free hand.

Knives. He let his fingers rest upon the smooth metal and nodded. They would be his protectors.

* * *

**This will _all_ come to fruition. Fili's weapons will have a part to play in this story, I assure you. Events are coming up, but I'm going to focus on Bilbo's childhood too, of course :) I hope this chapter was enjoyed and that it made for good reading.**

**Love from Shania. xx**


	12. Iklalel (The Cold of All Cold)

**Gimli is 12 years older than Bilbo. Can you believe it?**

**Nûlukh - Moon**

**Bashagûn - Conquest Man**

**Sygny - New Victory**

* * *

The tailor shop had been fun to start with, but now the brightly coloured silks, fine, glinting threads and shining, bejeweled buttons were boring Bilbo and his two cousins mad. They weren't allowed to stray away from the adults, Dis who was holding tightly onto the shoulders of her sons and Dwalin who held Bilbo's hand in one giant, meaty paw.

"We're bored, Uncle," Bilbo quietly whispered to Dwalin.

Dwalin clucked his tongue sympathetically. "Hang in there, laddie. We'll just wait for yer second cousin t'get his arse down here with his lad and we'll be able to get sorted."

Dis moved to hoist Kili onto a hip and gently entwined a lock of Fili's golden hair around her finger. "Aye, he's takin' far too long. Where is he?"

Her question was answered by the sudden bang of the door swinging open.

"Gloin!" said Dis, relieved. "At last! Our lads were goin' crazy with boredom."

"Forgive me, cousin. Neoma was trying to get his hair in some form of tidiness." Gloin stopped his explanation to chuckle. "You should have seen it, his hair kept sticking right up. He looked like Frerin when he played with them fireworks. You remember?"

"Aye," answered Dis with a smile. "I remember well." She placed Kili down and accepted a boisterous hug off Gloin's son, with a delighted chuckle and a, "How are you, my lad?"

Gimli, Gloin's son shared every characteristic with his father, but for his nose and his eyes which were a clear amber, fringed with long lashes. At only nineteen years of age, he still struck an impressive figure, nearing Fili in height despite their age difference of 20 years. Gimli had known Bilbo since he was a babe and still told proudly of the time he'd been trusted to hold his baby cousin. He was less protective of Bilbo, but no less loving and felt like a brother to him as did Fili and Kili.

"Has it been really, really boring?" Gimli asked by way of starting a conversation.

"Yes!" Kili declared, scrambling out of his mother's arms.

Fili grinned. "How've you been?"

"'m alright," Gimli answered. "I've never been here before. What's it like?"

"Dunno, we've only been in this room."

"There's only two rooms, beardlings," Gloin said, overhearing their conversation. "Here and the measuring room."

"Where's the tailor?" Dis asked.

"Here!"

The voice who had called belonged to a young Dwarrowdam. She had white-blonde hair pulled back into a single plait that reached to her lower back. Her eyes were dark and narrowed, the eyelids covered in a black powder. She wore an orange gown, intricately stitched across the bodice with a golden thread, countless amber gems flashing around the hem and waistline.

She was beautiful and finely dressed, but there was a coldness in her eyes as they flickered over Bilbo that made him not wish to look into them.

"Are you Miss Signy?"

"No," answered the tailor.

There was a brief silence broken by Fili asking, "what is your name, Ma'am?"

She ignored the question. Dis frowned. "My son asked you for your name."

"I do not answer to children."

Dwalin snorted, though Bilbo couldn't think what was amusing.

Dis took a step towards the tailor. "Perhaps you will answer to me. I am Dis, daughter of Thrain, and your princess. That makes my lad your prince and future king. Now, _answer his question._"

Giving Fili a glance, the tailor answered, "my name is Nûlukh, daughter of Sygny and Bashagûn."

Looking uncertainly at his mother, Fili offered a quiet word of thanks. Dis' eyes were also narrowed.

"Nûlukh, where is Miss Sygny?" Dis asked

"She is helping my brother with his wedding clothes," answered Nûlukh, giving a disapproving sniff as though she didn't think her mother's time should be spent doing such a thing. "May I help you?"

"You can indeed," Dis replied. "My son is having his Weapon Ceremony in several weeks."

Nûlukh merely flicked an eyebrow in interest.

"We're here to get this lot sorted for the day," Dis finished promptly.

Nûlukh shrugged. "Pick a fabric, and come find me. I'll be getting the tapes and needles out." With a swish of amber silk, she stalked off, leaving Dis to watch after her, her eyebrows nearly meeting her hairline.

"Lovely woman," murmured Gloin.

"She was a bitch," Gimli told his father solemnly.

Gloin sputtered. "Who taught you that word?!" he asked, aghast.

"Uncle Frerin did," Gimli answered. "What's wrong, Da? Is it rude?"

Dis was chortling, "Aye, you shouldn't say it, but it wasn't the wrong word to describe _her_."

"She wasn't pleasant, I know, but come along now," Dwalin ordered. "We have to be at the palace by 3."

* * *

"He is _ not_ wearing _gold silk_! He'll look a right fool." Dis snapped at Dwalin.

"But, he's the Golden Prince!"

"His _hair's _golden and that's good enough, I-"

"Mama?" Fili asked, pulling his mother's sleeve.

"Yes, love?"

"I like brown."

"Brown?" Dis repeated. "Very well, then. Brown's a strong colour and I'd prefer that to gold silk," she aimed a half-hearted glare at her cousin. "A brown leather surcoat would be nice..."

As she led Fili away, murmuring about various furs that could be used for the collar and inside the surcoat itself, Dwalin lifted Kili and Bilbo in his powerful, muscled arms, strolling around the fabrics. Kili suddenly gasped and shot out his arms to clasp hold of a deep blue velvet.

"You like blue, eh?" Dwalin asked, lightly ruffling Kili's hair.

Kili nodded. "Just like Uncle Thorin!"

Dwalin barked a laugh. "We'll remember to tell your mother that. You see a colour you want, Bilbo?"

"No, Uncle," was the answer.

Kili pulled at Bilbo's hand. "What's your favourite colour?"

"I don't know," Bilbo answered. "I like them all!"

"You like red," Kili remembered.

"D'you want red, lad?" Dwalin asked, peering down at Bilbo.

Bilbo thought about it for a short while before giving an affirmative nod.

"Let's see. The dark red or the light red?"

"The light red is _pink_!" Kili giggled.

"Well, it's a type of red, isn't it?"

"Hurry up, you two!" Dis said, grinning rather impishly their way.

"Go on and get your own colour chosen!"

"Already have." Dis answered. Deepening her voice, she said, "_Come now, we have to be at the palace by 3_."

"Dis, you might be pushing 140, but so help me..."

Dwalin's sentence was drowned out by the soft laughter of the Dwarven princess, who gave him a friendly smile before dissolving into more chortles.

"No pink," Bilbo decided, "red, please."

"Look at that," muttered Gloin. "Not even a decade old and he has better manners than his uncle."

"_I _ happen to have _excellent _ manners," Dwalin retorted. "You're just too dense to notice 'em!"

Gloin glared at Dwalin, but when he looked towards the two younglings encased in his cousin's burly arms, his dark eyes were twinkling. "Don't be like him, lads. Otherwise you'll end up with _pathetic _ insults."

"I wasn't intending to insult you," Dwalin said, moving as Dis grabbed his arm. "I was simply stating a truth!"

* * *

Bilbo was last to get measured. Standing in his underclothes, Bilbo saw that Nûlukh's eyes were even darker when she stood close by. The way she looked at Bilbo made him feel like he was an inch tall. Perhaps it was just that she was having a bad day, Bilbo thought, and he tried to keep still for her, though he couldn't help yelping as the needle in her hand poked sharply at his arm.  
Blood oozed its way out from the scratch and he instinctively went to Dwalin, knowing his uncle could fix anything. Behind him, the tailor sighed heavily.

"This is why things like _him _ shouldn't live with us," Nûlukh muttered. "Delicate-skinned little Halfling."

Bilbo glanced up at Dwalin, who looked terrifyingly livid. "Halfling? What's a Halfling?"

"Nothing," Dis answered, giving Nûlukh an icy stare. "Come along, now."

As Dwalin lifted Bilbo to his shoulder, stopping only to glower once more at the tailor, Bilbo couldn't stop himself from wondering.

Just _what _ was a Halfling?

* * *

**I have discovered that it's pretty fun to create really horrible characters! God, I had the worst Writer's Block imaginable! But it's gone now, which is very good news indeed.**

**Hope it was enjoyed!**

**Love from Shania. xx**


	13. Dizhib (The Diamond)

******Ye of little faith! I understand your thought, but trust me, please! I may not always get canon right, but I hold pride in keeping characters IC. Unless you're talking about certain works like _Through the Eyes_ which is basically the biggest crack!fic I've ever done. Yes.**

**I know Dis is a Mama Bear and Dwalin is a Papa Wolf, but, this may be wrong, but I don't think Dwarves are in the habit of physically wounding each other in front of their children. I just don't. What if they accidentally hurt one of the beardlings?  
Also, Sanmuhud is undoubtedly protective like Dis, but I think she destroys people with her quick words and wit. I just see her like that.**

* * *

Unfortunately for Dwalin, Nûlukh's words were not forgotten.

_'What is a Halfling?'_

He could hardly blame Bilbo's curiosity. What would he know of other Halflings? The lad didn't even know _he _ was one, for Mahal's sake! He watched his nephew sleep, rubbing the back of his neck. Should they have been more honest about Belladonna? Told him she was a Hobbit? But then he'd ask about his family. And how could they explain the hate, the fury and the scourge that had been bestowed upon Bilbo's entire race?

It wasn't something even Fili and Kili knew a lot about. Oh, they knew Belladonna had lost her family, but they knew not of the fate that had befallen every Shireling. They'd not told Bilbo of everything either.

No one had.

How could they? Look into the depths of those innocent, green eyes and tell of the horror that had happened before his birth?

The thought alone was impossible.

Bilbo stirred in his sleep, dragging the blanket over his ears. Dwalin's heart squeezed. His nephew was safe, safe with him and his family, far from the monsters that plagued the Misty Mountains.

"Long day?"

Dwalin turned at Balin's voice. "You could say that, aye."

"What happened?"

Dwalin stole a last look at Bilbo before moving away. Leading Balin to the living room, he glanced down to his elder brother. "He heard the word 'Halfling' today. Been asking about it all day."

"What did you tell him?"

"That it's a bad word."

Balin raised an eyebrow.

"Well, Bella never liked it!"

"No," agreed Balin. "She did not."

Dwalin heaved a sigh. "The tailor was the one who said it. She pricked his arm with the needle and wasn't too happy when he bled."

"Ah. So that was why Queen Sanmuhud went there on a second visit."

"Never felt anger like that," Dwalin admitted. "T'was all I could do not to take her beard from her."

"I can assure you San took care of it."

"But she shouldn't have to!"

"She is Bilbo's kin, same as us!" Balin told him, "Knowing her, she was likely all too glad to step in. She's dealt with unsavoury people before, you know."

"I know, it's just.. why do people behave like this? Most are alright, but some are just.. they don't like things that are different."

"Not all people are good, unfortunately."

Dwalin was gazing to where Bilbo slept. "When I teach him to fight, none will dare treat him wrongfully."

"I'm sure you will," Balin answered. "Go and rest, brother. He'll have forgotten about the new word by morning."

* * *

Of course he didn't. He asked everyone, from King Thrain to the cat what a 'Halfling' actually was, unheeding of his uncle's explanation of it being a rude word.  
Thrain 'hmm'ed a lot and coughed when asked, leading Bilbo to give up, Thorin abruptly changed the subject, Frerin grabbed him under the arms and spun him 'til he became dizzy, Sanmuhud adopted the same technique as her eldest son and Dis ignored the question completely.

"This isn't fair!" Bilbo told Frerin severely. "When _you _ ask _me _ questions, I _have _ to answer them or you get angry-"

Frerin coughed. "Excuse me, little one, _I_ don't get angry. You're referring to Thorin and Dis, there."

"I still answer them, so why don't you?"

Frerin thought for a little while. "Well," he said gently, "remember when the cat had kittens and one of them didn't live?"

Bilbo nodded, slipping his hand around one of Frerin's fingers. "Yes."

"We didn't quite know how to explain the kitten to you beardlings, did we? Remember, you all asked where Fluffy was and we didn't answer?"

"Uh-huh."

"That was because we knew the real answer would upset you. And we were right."

Bilbo was quiet. He recalled all too well the sorrow and sadness at Fluffy's demise. Squeezing tightly on Frerin's finger, he said quickly. "That's alright, then. I don't want to know, if it's sad."

Frerin was pleased. He'd at least been honest and it seemed Bilbo's questioning was at an end. For how long was anyone's guess, but for now, Frerin decided, the interest was gone.

* * *

"You look pleased," Sanmuhud remarked. "Would you like to share why?"

"My kingdom is happy, Balin's child forgot to ask what Halflings are, my eldest grandson is about to have his first Weapon Ceremony and I'm married to the most beautiful Dwarrowdam in all of Erebor," Thrain answered. "And that is why, my _mizimel_."

"Who's making Fili's gift?"

"I haven't a clue. Our three _delightful _ children nearly engaged in a fight over it this morning."

Sanmuhud huffed a laugh. "What a sight that must have been!"

"Yes. My sons hurling insults at each other while my daughter keeps them from murdering each other. Fools the pair of them."

Sanmuhud grinned. Despite Thrain's declarations of annoyance at his heirs, there was no mistaking the fondness in his eyes nor the warmth in his voice.

"Might well you smile," Thrain muttered. "You weren't the one who had to waste valuable time reminding them of their duties as Princes of Erebor. Duties that do _not_ include calling each other 'Elf-shaggers'."

"Oh, my."

"You should have seen it, San. I turned a corner and there stood Thorin and Frerin bellowing at each other."

"If I was King-"

"We'd all be trembling in our boots," grumbled Thrain. "Don't speak of such frightening things."

Sanmuhud rolled her eyes. "Very well, O' King Under the Mountain. Tell me, what shall happen if they haven't decided by next week? The ceremony takes place in three weeks."

"Dis will probably knock their heads together and choose by herself. Mahal knows I wish I could."

"Have you written to the Elvenking yet?"

Thrain pulled a face, looking exactly as his youngest son did when faced with a task he didn't like, "I'm sure he won't be interested..."

"Thrain!"

"But-"

"I know you don't particularly enjoy his company, but it's polite. Besides," Sanmuhud's features softened, "the children would like to see them. The Captain of the Guard might come along."

"Hmm. Kili does enjoy her presence."

"Imagine if they get married." Sanmuhud said, smirking over at her husband.

Thrain ran his hands over his face. "Mahal above! You are full of horrors tonight, my love. A Durin falling in love with an Elf! Who ever heard of such a thing?"

* * *

**Poor Thrain. He has no idea!**

**I apologise that it seemed OOC, and I'm not saying they looked completely IC, but I hope the explanation helps you, for lack of a better word, understand why.**

**Hope it was anjoyed!**

**Love from Shania. xx**


	14. Khuthûzh (The Elves)

"Taur'el! Taur'el!"

The redheaded Elf grinned as a bundle of curls sped towards her. Dropping to a knee, she held her arms open, laughing as the child jumped at her, fastening his little arms around her neck. Standing, she held the little one in her arms, gazing fondly at the large green eyes of the little _perian_.

"You're growing fast!"

"Will I be as tall as you?"

Tauriel chuckled. "I don't know. Perhaps. Where is your _ada _ gone?"

"I don't know."

Tauriel fought the urge to smile. "We should find him before he begins tearing the Mountain apart."

Bilbo gave her another enthusiastic hug. "I thought we wouldn't see you for ages! It's been _years _ since I last saw you."

That was true, unfortunately. She liked seeing him and it was rare that she accompanied her King to this Dwarven kingdom, but she was needed at home and the years always flew so quickly. She glanced around the hallway as she followed Thranduil, smiling at his son as he glanced 'round to her.

"Sorry, little one. I have a lot to do. Have you been getting my letters?"

"I'm learning how to read them. Papa's teaching me!"

"_Is _ he?"

* * *

She was halfway through telling him a story of the giant spiders that had found their way into the palace when she realised the walls were taking on a more shining, glimmering appearance. They would soon be in the company of the Dwarven king, Thrain and she paused, slid Bilbo down and walked on, though she held tightly onto his hand.

"_There _ you are!"

Bilbo glanced up as the two princes came over to him. Thorin shoved Frerin away and quickly lifted the child in his arms. "Balin was worried. Go back to the meeting, Frerin."

Thorin sounded relieved, though Bilbo couldn't guess why. Tauriel was watching them as they left, her eyes sparkling. She gave a wave and followed he King and Prince to where Thrain awaited them.

Frerin was following his brother. "Have mercy on your _nadadith_! Those discussions are _exactly_ what nightmares are made of."

"Good! Run along now."

"Please, Thorin..."

"I had to face them alone for _years_ before you decided to be born. _Go back to Father and Thranduil!"_

Frerin did, looking as though he was about to face a team of Balrogs rather than two kings with a fragile alliance between them.

"Is Papa alright?"

"Your _adad _ is fine," Thorin promised. "We'd best get you to him quickly, though. I fear to think what he'll do if he doesn't see you soon."

"Thorin?"

"Mm?"

"Why does your papa like seeing the Elves?"

"Oh, he hates seeing them. He only does it because he wants to keep the Elvenking happy."

"What do they do?"

"In the meetings? Nothing much. They sit around, discussing the goings-on of their Kingdoms. Talk about what they need for their people, what plans they have for the coming months."

"They sound boring."

"They are," Thorin agreed. "Very, very boring."

* * *

Balin was two parts relieved and one part annoyed at seeing his lad again. He almost squeezed him to death in a thankful hug, before looking down at him through narrowed, blue eyes and asking the all-important question.

"Where did you go?"

"I heard the Elves were here."

"Well, you can't just go running off like that!" Balin said, feeling exasperated. "I thought I'd never see you again."

Bilbo ducked his head. "Sorry."

Unable to stay angry, Balin lifted him onto a hip, kissing the top of his head. "'T'is alright."

"Papa, how long will Tauriel stay?"

"Oh, she came along, did she? Well, I imagine they'll be staying for Fili's ceremony and a few days after that."

* * *

Tauriel hastily looked away as Frerin entered, his nephews in his arms. Where he'd found them, she could not guess and he lost one of them as he wriggled out of his uncle's grasp.

"Kili!" Frerin whispered. "This was not what we agreed!"

Poor Thrain looked as though he wanted to throw himself off Erebor's highest balcony. "Kili, _sit down_, please."

Kili scampered around, stopping as he came up to where Tauriel stood. He stared at her, biting on his thumb and then raised his arms up. She looked over at his grandmother for permission and when it was granted, she lifted him onto a hip, smiling at his large brown eyes as they stared into hers.

"You're pretty." Kili told her quietly.

"Thank you."

"I like your hair. It's like the red sunset. And you have beautiful eyes, they're like a dark gold."

Legolas snorted.

Prince Kili was not deterred. "Have you got a husband?"

"No," Tauriel whispered back.

"Can _I_ be your husband?"

"I think that's enough for today!" Thrain interrupted, standing and bowing to Thranduil.

The Elvenking nodded. "I agree. Come, Legolas, Tauriel."

Tauriel placed Kili down. "I will see you later, young princeling."

Frerin was the first to start laughing. Sanmuhud grinned as she watched her youngest son double over with great shrieks, clasping his eldest nephew to his chest.

"Why is Uncle Frerin laughing?" Kili asked.

"You having a flirt with the Guard Captain of Mirkwood!" Frerin almost wept. "How I wish Thorin was here! To see his face when you-" He cut himself off with more laughter.

Thrain groaned and glared at his wife. "Your prediction came true. You evil woman."

"Mother knows best," Sanmuhud told him gravely. "At least you know our line shall continue."

Thrain simply placed his head in his hands and let out a long-suffering sigh.

* * *

Legolas didn't know his way around the vast Dwarven mountain half as well as Tauriel did. He followed her as she led him through countless sharp turns through the colossal maze that was Erebor, his eyes firmly fixed on her swaying auburn hair.

"You know, you didn't give the little Dwarf boy an answer." Legolas called over.

"He didn't mean it! He's far too young to know about marriage and love."

"He seemed smitten."

Tauriel scoffed and turned to face him, her bright eyes shining. "He's a child. You were just as bad, I'm sure."

Legolas stared at her. "I was not."

"Were."

"How would you even know?"

"Because I do." Tauriel answered.

"Where are you taking me, anyway?" Legolas asked.

"I wish to see Bilbo again."

"Perhaps your future fiance will be there..."

Her laughter echoed through their part of the mountain and she took another turn, quietening as they burst out into a lively crowd of Dwarrows. She darted her hand out, grabbing his and he smiled at their contact, allowing her to pull him through the sea of the Dwarven people.

* * *

"Does he remember his mother?" Legolas asked, warily watching the youngling sleeping in Tauriel's arms. In his sleep, Bilbo had apparently decided that Legolas' fingers were the perfect things to grip tightly onto and the Elven Prince wasn't quite sure what to think of it.

"She died when he was born," Tauriel quietly answered, brushing a hand over the child's curls. "No, he doesn't remember her."

Bilbo opened an eye at the contact, unseen by the two Elves. Burying his head further in Tauriel's shoulder, he listened to the melody of their voices, preparing to go to sleep once more only to have his attention caught by their conversation.

"To lose all your family so young.."

"I know, _mellon_." Tauriel's voice was low. "I know."

Bilbo lay still, hoping to hear more of their strange talk. He'd not lost any family! He had a family, a big one too.

"He will be alright," Legolas said. "The fate that befell his race shall not befall him."

Tauriel was shaking her head. Bilbo knew this because her long hair moved underneath his body. "I know."

There was a sudden quiet for a few minutes and Bilbo was just about to pretend he'd just awoken when the familiar, slow thuds of Papa's sturdy boots thumped on the stone floor.

"Got him to sleep, did you?"

"Mm." Tauriel shifted. "We should get back to our King." She lifted the child from her lap, passing him into his parent's arms. "We'll see you soon, Master Balin."

Balin turned and Bilbo heard Legolas murmur something about 'little hobbit', but he didn't ask what it was. He felt as though he'd overheard something that he shouldn't have.

Yet, as his papa tucked him under his sheets and kissed him goodnight, Bilbo decided he would try and find out just what Tauriel and Legolas had been talking about.

* * *

**I just had to write Kili having a crush on Tauriel, didn't I? So, Bilbo has discovered more information than he should have, but will he ask?**

**Hope it was enjoyed!**

**Love from Shania. xx**


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